Jay Halstead Imagines
by DeanLittle67
Summary: A collection of Jay x Reader imagines
1. Chapter 1

It started off as a normal day, showing up at the district and sitting at your desk. Jay was already there, like always, and magically there was already a cup of hot coffee on your desk. You threw a smile his way, seeing that smirk plastered on his face and a glint of mischievousness in his eye.

You'd been working with Jay for nearly three years now. You'd been sneaking around with Jay for two. With Voight's no in-house romance rule, it was necessary to sneak. It was fun at first, but recently, you'd been wanting to tell people. Even just going out off the clock was stressful, worried you'd run into someone you knew from work. Neither of you wanted to get transferred out.

"We have a hit on our perp at South Levitt Street," Antonio announced, quickly standing up.

"You heard him. Leave in five," Voight agreed.

The rest of the team funneled out, you and Halstead the last ones to start to head downstairs. He brushed his hand against yours, lingering a little too long for just friends. It was a good thing nobody noticed. You looked up at him with a smile, knowing he had your back no matter what.

"We take down this son of a bitch dead or alive," Voight told them as Jay helped you get your vest on.

"Y/L/N and Halstead, you're going to breach the back of the building. Al and Ruzek, the front. Atwater, you're with Dawson," Voight continued.

You and Jay went out to the car, Jay getting in the driver's seat. It was routine. At first, you hated that Jay always drove, but now you didn't seem to mind it. It gave you plenty of opportunity for naps, or to rest your hand on his thigh like you were doing on the drive to Levitt.

"Y/N," Jay said, he warned. You didn't listen, hand rubbing his thigh with a smirk. "You're such a tease."

"That's why you love me, Jay," you reminded him in a sing-song tone.

The closer you got to Levitt, the worse the feeling in your stomach became. It was normal though, always worried about him. You were partners in many different ways. This way, though. Your love for him could outpower your rational mind sometimes. You'd never made a mistake, though. Every bust, every chase, you always made sure your head was on straight. You'd never put him in danger.

"It'll be okay," he assured you. "I'll be fine."

"You promise?" you countered.

"I promise."

He always promised you on the way. He always promised he'd be okay.

He parked the car behind Antonio, you both getting out of the car and getting your guns out of the trunk. He gave you a look, and you knew it would be alright.

You both went around back, guns drawn and pointed low. He breached the door, you following. Both of you diligent and on guard. Which is why you didn't expect for shots to ring out, taking cover.

"Shots fired! I repeat, shots fired!" you called through the radio. "Jay!" you then called out, needing to make sure he was clear.

Glancing around the doorframe, you saw him lying there, seeming to struggle to breathe. You couldn't explain the amount of fear coursing through your body. You glanced around the doorframe again, firing back, needing to get to Jay.

"I need an ambulance at South Levitt Street. Officer down!" you called before returning fire again.

"Suspect down!" Ruzek yelled out after the sound of several more shots. It was good enough for you, falling down next to Jay.

Your hands ran over him, trying to figure out how the hell he got hit. Your fingers found a hole in his vest, wanting to have killed the suspect yourself. Cop killer bullets. His blood was covering your hands. When you got to him, he was staring at the ceiling, face pale and clammy.

"Come on, Jay," you told him, putting pressure on the wound over his vest. "**Don't you dare die on me! You promised!** Where the hell is that ambulance?"

You couldn't lose him. He was the best thing in your life. It didn't matter what anybody said or thought. This was what you needed to come clean, once he was better. Because he wasn't going to die. You couldn't even fathom that possibility.

"Jay, keep your eyes open, baby," you told him, trying to hold back tears as his eyes started to drift shut. Blood tinged his lips, and you could see some rolling down his cheek from his mouth. "I can't lose you."

"Y/N," Ruzek said, kneeling on the opposite side of Jay. You looked up at him with tears and fear before your attention returned to Jay.

"Jay, look at me." You saw his eyes meet yours. He looked tired, like he was ready to give up. "You gotta stay awake, okay?"

He weakly reached up, hand grabbing your wrist. He felt cold, his grip weak and shaking. It looked like he was trying to say something, but it didn't come out.

"I know Jay, I know. I love you. It's gonna be okay."

The paramedics showed up, taking over for you. You stood, trying not to lose it. Ruzek put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as they loaded him up.

"Someone can come with us, quick," the medic told them.

"Go ahead Y/L/N," Voight assured.

You climbed into the back of the ambulance, holding onto his hand. He was out now, though, but luckily still had a heartbeat. You only focused on him, tuning the medic out as she worked.

As soon as you got to Med, though, he was whisked away, leaving you standing in the ED with Jay's blood all over you, not sure what to do or where to go. That was, until Maggie led you to the waiting room.

It didn't take long for the rest of the team to show up, Voight looking over at you regularly. Probably partly to check to see if you were okay, but also probably because he realized something was up.

"Let's get you out of the vest and cleaned up, Y/N," Voight said, pulling you to the nearest bathroom. You went more than willingly, considering you were in shock. You'd not only just seen your partner shot, but the man you loved more than anything else.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Voight told you, helping you undo your vest, pulling it off and dropping it to the floor. It left red around it from Jay's blood.

"I-I just don't understand why. Or how. We did everything right! He-" You were talking with your hands, pointing at nothing. "He did everything right, Voight!"

"That dirt-bag had cop killer bullets. Doesn't matter that you did everything right. You and Halstead, huh?" he asked, wetting some paper towels to help get the blood of your hands.

"We knew it was against the rules," you told him, knowing it wasn't a secret anymore. "So, we couldn't tell you. Been two years."

"I've known, Y/N. But you guys are good cops. You never let it get in the way of your work. Except that one time."

You knew what situation he was talking about. You and Jay had a huge fight, you'd kicked him out of the apartment, and he'd slept on the couch at the district for the night. He'd made the excuse that he'd been working a case late, but you knew that wasn't the case. The worst part was the fact that it was a stupid fight.

"I love him, Hank. I can't lose him." You washed your hands, pulling off your shirt to just your tank-top.

"He's a fighter, he's going to pull through." You nodded, the both of you going back out to the waiting room. As soon as you stepped out, you saw Will pacing. When he saw you, he walked over in long strides, pulling you into a hug.

Neither of you needed to say anything, sitting down. You leaned your head against his shoulder, waiting for news. It seemed to take an eternity, but eventually Dr Rhodes came out, looking drained.

"He's out of surgery. The bullet ripped through the very bottom of his left lung and his spleen. A lot of bleeding with the spleen, but luckily, you can live without it. It was touch and go for a bit there. He lost a lot of blood, but I expect him to make a full recovery."

You let out the breath you didn't know you'd been holding. He was going to be okay. Jay was going to be okay.

"Can-Can I see him?" you asked, getting a nod in response. Will motioned for you to go ahead, so you followed Rhodes to Jay's room.

His color seemed to be coming back, but you could see they still had blood running into him through his IV. You sat down next to him, taking his hand in your own. His skin was warmer too, which all seemed like good signs. It took a while until he started to wake up, but when he did, it was with slow and gentle fluttering of his eyelids.

"Hey," you said softly, wiping away your tears, hoping he wouldn't see. "Glad you're awake, sleeping beauty."

"Y/N," he said groggily.

"You scared me, Jay. I swear to god, if you ever do that again." You shook your head, not sure what would happen if it happened again. Maybe, next time, he wouldn't make it through. Next time, he might leave you for good.

"I'm sorry." You brought his hand up to your lips, kissing his knuckles. "I love you."

A/N: So, this was a first for me, usually not doing Character x Reader, but figured I'd give it a shot. A few housekeeping announcements. 1) Hold On will now update on Thursdays 2) Icarus will now update on Fridays 3) this story will update once, if not twice a week. If you have any requests for Jay x Reader, just comment on here or PM me, and I'll get it done. I pretty much have no restrictions. Whump, smut, whatever! Thank you all! xxx


	2. Chapter 2

You and Jay had been together just shy of four years now, and every day felt like the first all over again. That whirlwind love and lust still ever present. Waking up in his arms felt like a dream every day. You'd never seen his face, never seen him, but you could imagine. You loved him anyway because it didn't matter.

You'd met at the grocery store of all places. Your best friend Y/B/F/N was supposed to meet you there to help you pick up some things. Usually, you would have just had it delivered or brought to you, but you wanted to feel the sun on your face. She hadn't shown up, and you'd literally walked in to Jay. You could still remember him profusely apologizing before offering to help you. Reluctantly, you'd agreed, but it had turned out to be a great thing seeing as you went to get coffee together that afternoon and a date later that week.

He didn't care that you couldn't see, never bothering him. He never treated you any different than anybody else, although, he offered to help out more than he might have otherwise. There were days where you gladly accepted the help, giving you a reason to be close to him. Other days — the bad days — you would yell at him, telling him you were capable. He never held it against you.

You understood what you were getting into with Jay, with his job. He willingly put himself in danger every day to protect the people of the city. It was heroic and brave and you told him constantly how proud you were of him.

This was one of your bad days, yelling at Jay before he left the house. Usually it would have been a kiss, a promise to see you when he got home. Instead, it was you slamming the door in his face. Sometimes, you were glad you couldn't see the look of hurt on his face.

You'd gone about your day, listening to an audio book, cleaning the best you could, doing laundry. You weren't expecting a knock on the door, but figured it might have been Jay. You knew it wasn't late enough for it him to be home, but you also knew it was around lunch time. When you answered the door, you weren't expecting to be roughly grabbed, a startled yell coming from your throat.

"You scream again, you die."

—

Jay couldn't stop thinking about the fight. Your fights were always stupid, none of them lasting long. He debated on whether or not to call you throughout the day. Finally, Lindsay had had enough of it.

"Stop moping and just call Y/N, Jay," she said from her desk, getting a glare in response.

He hated being told what to do. Plus, she had no idea what had actually happened, but she was always the one to tell him to call you.

"Fine," he grumbled, grabbing his jacket and heading out to the front of the precinct to get some air and to make the call. It was surprising to him that you didn't answer, not thinking the fight was that serious. But what did he know? So, he called again, this time getting an answer he wasn't expecting.

"You for her, nine, the docks," the man said before hanging up. His blood ran cold, breath catching in his throat before running back inside, taking the steps two at a time.

"Someone has Y/N," he said as soon as he reached Intelligence, getting everyone's attention.

—

You didn't know how long you'd been tied to the chair, zip ties digging into your wrists. It was times like this you wished you could see. You could hear boat horns, could smell the lake, so you knew you were close to Lake Michigan. But other than that, you were completely lost.

"If he knows what's good for him, he'll come to your rescue," the man said, grabbing your jaw in his hand, pulling your head to the side. You figured it was to look at him considering you could smell his breath on your face. So, you took the opportunity to spit in his face.

"You bitch," he spat back, hitting you hard across the face. It wasn't the worst he'd done so far, not by a long shot. You were pretty sure you had broken ribs and at least one broken wrist. You didn't want to imagine how bruised you were.

You'd overheard some of his ramblings between moments of passing out or praying. It seemed like Jay had busted him or someone he knew, and he wanted revenge. That's what you got out of it at least.

You just sat there, waiting. At this point, you just hoped he'd kill you with how much pain you were in. That's when you heard a gunshot, screaming in response, trying to get out of the chair with much more fervor now. You were crying, not sure what was going on.

That's when you felt someone grab you. It wasn't as rough as the man, but it still terrified you, a mantra of 'no' coming out of your mouth. You barely heard what the person was saying, the ringing in your ears too loud. The next thing you knew, your hands were cut free and you were pulled close to someone. It felt familiar, the cologne was one you smelled every day.

"You're okay Y/N, I've got you," Jay assured you, the two of you sitting on the ground, his arms around you. You let yourself cry, harder than you had in a long time. You ignored the pain you felt from how tight he was hugging you, his hand combing through your hair.

—-

You'd given your statement and had been checked out at Med, and were finally cleared to go home. Though, you didn't want to. The thought terrified you. That man — Ryland Johnson — had taken advantage of what he'd considered your weak point.

"Y/N," Jay said softly as he drove. You were wearing his jacket, your hands firmly under your thighs. "What's on your mind?"

You really didn't want to answer that because you didn't even know yourself. There was a lot swirling in your mind. The touch startled you, quickly shifting over to the door when his hand came down on your knee. You felt the car stop, hoping you were at home.

"Let's go upstairs okay?" You didn't have to be told twice, getting out of the car quickly and heading up to the apartment. It was a route you had memorized, and as you hobbled your way, you didn't wait for Jay.

It seemed just like how you left it as you made your way around the furniture and to the bathroom, shutting yourself inside. You could hear Jay sigh, knowing it was probably frustrating for him. But he wasn't the one that almost died. Stripping down, you got in the shower, letting the hot water run over you.

Eventually, when the water ran cold, you got out of the shower, quickly drying off before pulling on Jay's shirt from the day before that was still on the floor. When you exited the bathroom, you could tell he was already in bed, though not asleep. His breathing pattern wasn't regular enough for that. Hesitantly, you got in bed with him, slipping under the covers. You weren't hesitant when you reached over, holding onto him for dear life. You didn't even realize you were crying again until he was whispering assurances in your ear.

"You're okay, baby," he told you, rubbing soft circles on your back, voice shaking. "You're safe. You're home."

"He said-he said he was going to kill you," you managed to tell him when the sobs calmed down. "Said he was using me to get to you."

"I know," he said, knowing they'd gotten a confession out of him. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. You should have never been put in that situation, I should have never put you in that situation."

The thing was, you didn't blame Jay, but you could tell he blamed himself. Lifting your head from his chest, you brought your hand up, fingertips on his face. You could feel the frown lines between his brows, the way his lips pressed together when he was upset.

"It's not your fault, Jay." The frown lines got deeper as he seemed to be confused. "I don't blame you. I knew what I was getting in to." At that, you could feel him relax a little before you pressed a kiss to his lips. Being with Jay was going to have its ups and downs, but he made it worth it every day.


	3. Chapter 3

You and Jay had been assigned a stake out shift, run of the mill, nothing too fancy. The stop and the grocery store beforehand was interesting to say the least, considering neither of you could agree on what to get, judging each other on snack choices.

Eventually, you guys made your way to the staging point, car parked and seats reclined. You'd been bullshitting most of the night so far, joking around. Jay had a Twizzler hanging from his mouth, hands motioning as he told a story. The next thing you knew, the car began sputtering before dying. That also meant that the heat went out. Considering you were staking out at two in the morning, in Chicago, in December, with a negative wind chill, it didn't bode well.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," you said, fiddling with the nobs, which didn't do anything.

"I'll call the district to get a patrol car to pick us up," Jay told you, pulling out his phone. This meant that the stake out was going to be a bust because you had to bail.

"They better make it fast, Jay. It's freezing." The cold had already started to set in, and you knew you guys were at least a few blocks from the nearest store that was open. He tossed the phone on the dash with a groan. "How soon, Jay?"

"At least an hour. I can call Voight?" You shook your head vehemently at that, knowing Voight would murder both of you without a second thought for screwing up the stakeout.

"This is the last time we do a stakeout!" you growled. "Adam and Al are the stakeout experts. Their car wouldn't have broken down." Jay couldn't help but smile and laugh. "This isn't funny Jay! It's freezing!"

"Calm down, Y/N. It'll be fine. I'm sure they'll get someone to us sooner considering the circumstances." You couldn't help but glare his way. "Plus, you know, body heat is the best way to stop hypothermia."

"In your dreams, Halstead."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Chapter rated M, NSFW, Smut

Jay had been the one to choose the movie at the store. It seemed like it would be interesting, plus you were excited just to have a night to relax together. Jay had been having a tough time at work, and you were stressing over your hopeful upcoming promotion at the hospital to charge nurse.

The two of you were sitting on the couch, popcorn on Jay's lap. His feet were propped up on the coffee table, yours laying over his and your head on his shoulder. Occasionally, he'd kiss the top of your head or rest his hand on your leg, but his focus was on the movie. Until the scene changed, the two main characters in the throws of passion.

You felt him stiffen up a little, could see his breath hitch. It was subtle, and nobody would have noticed it except you. Considering how much time you spend with him, how you knew every one of his tells. If you were being honest, it turned you on. Plus with how stressful your guys' lives had been, it wasn't very often you participated in similar actions.

These realizations, plus the movie, gave you an idea. You sat up, grabbing the popcorn and placing it on the table before straddling him with a smile.

"What?" he asked softly, looking confused but with a smirk before you leaned down and kissed him. It wasn't gentle either, full of all the pent up energy. You could feel how rough he grabbed your hips, pulling you as close as humanly possible.

"I've missed you," you told him as you pressed your foreheads together.

"Mhm," he agreed, kissing you again, your hands running through his hair, nails scratching along his scalp. It was a mess of tongue and teeth, the movie long forgotten in the background.

You pulled back only long enough to pull his shirt off, his lips on your neck before the fabric came close to hitting the floor. Your hands roamed the skin of his shoulders, feeling the muscle underneath. You could still feel the scar from when he got shot, trying not to think of it. Your hips ground down, feeling his arousal clear as day, getting a groan from him.

As soon as you locked eyes again, you could see the look of lust in his baby blues as he pulled your shirt off. You moved off him just long enough to drop your shorts and let him get his sweats off. Jay leaned forward, grabbing you by the hips and pulling you back down. That got a laugh out of you, and you saw the smile on his face.

"I love you, Y/N," he told you, the two of you just looking at each other for a second longer before you lowered down on him. "God, damn."

You bit your bottom lip, hands on his shoulders as he watched you. Slowly, you began moving on him, teasing him. You got a few good moans out of him before he sounded frustrated instead. You just smirked, no longer teasing as you picked up the pace.

Being with Jay was a wild ride, in every sense of the word. From lazy nights to moments like this. You loved it, loved him, and you always made sure he knew it. Nipping at his ear, his nails scraped along your waist.

"I love you," you sighed before kissing him again. Usually, spur of the moment actions like this were a lot less talking and a lot more passion. But it felt right. You two had always agreed to do what felt right.

It lasted a little longer before he came undone underneath you. It seemed like you could mold him like putty, Jay trusting you in every sense of the word. You could remember the first few times, he'd been reluctant to give up that control. It took awhile for him to reluctantly give it up, to let you make him feel good. But when you did, you learned all the tricks pretty fast on what he liked. Again, you learned his tells.

His breaths would come in a bit sharper, nails digging into your thighs. You could feel his abs tense up, occasionally getting his toes to curl as he tried to find purchase against whatever surface it was. His lips would part, eyes would squeeze shut before fixing on you.

You moved a little faster, knowing he was close. It was enough to push you over the edge, Jay falling quickly afterward. Once you'd stopped, his head fell forward to your shoulder. You held onto him, fingers combing through his hair as he took some deep breaths.

"Y/N," he said, looking up at you with a smile. "We need to do that again, soon."

You couldn't agree more, so you responded with, "We have all night." That seemed good enough for Jay, securing a grip on you before standing up and carrying you to the bedroom. It was going to be a good night.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, I wasn't planning on having a super-long chapter for this story, but this just came to me. I wrote it in one sitting, somehow, and it's like 18 pages in a google doc. I really hope you guys enjoy it!

You had met Jay through Will, one of the many times Jay had come to visit his brother at the hospital. You were a fellow ED attending, having began working there just months before Will had waltzed in and turned the place upside down. You'd considered him a friend, having gone to Molly's after shift many times throughout the past couple years. Sometimes, Jay would join you. Other times, it was just you and Will.

You'd learned a lot about the brothers, where they came from and how they got to where they were. It was hard sometimes, hearing some of those stories. Or, when you'd asked Will why Jay had bailed and he'd told you about Jay's PTSD. That night was when you found your way in front of Jay's apartment door for the first time, debating on knocking or not. It took all the courage you had to knock, Jay answering the door in a gray t-shirt and sweats. You could see how red the rims of his eyes were, how he sniffed before greeting you. Neither of you said anything as you pulled him into a tight hug.

That was the first of many nights you'd end your day at his place. Most of the time, it was just hanging out, having a beer, bullshitting back and forth. Rarely was it like that first night where you just held him as he cried. He had this personna of being strong and brave, but you knew it wouldn't always hold up, that he'd have his days. There were nights you'd show up, and he'd have bruises and cuts from his day, wincing as he breathed. Those were the hardest for you, but you were there for him.

You don't know when it started to become more. It was a gradual thing, the more time you spent together, the closer you grew. At first you thought it was just a really good friendship, dinners and movies and drinks and laughs. You'd walk down the street hand in hand, looking up at him with a smile. You think it was that first kiss that sealed the deal.

—-

It had been leading up to that point for six months. Every time you, Jay, and Will were at Molly's, Will kept looking between you two with a smug smile, but would refuse to say anything when prompted. It was like he knew something you didn't. Even though he was one of your closest friends, you could never admit to him how you felt about his brother.

You'd gotten off late one night, sending a quick text to Jay to let him know you wouldn't be coming to his place. He seemed sad, but understood. So, when you got home and saw your door kicked in and the place trashed, you couldn't call him. He'd worry. Instead, you'd called 911 and left the building, waiting for the cops to show up. You were glad it was Burgess and Roman, having seen them around the hospital.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Burgess asked, seeing that you were shaking.

"Yeah, it's just cold. I'll be here once you guys check out the place. Just...can you not tell Jay?" you followed up, shoving your hands in your pockets to keep warm.

"Not tell Jay what?" you heard him say from behind you, glaring at Burgess, knowing it was probably her that made the call.

You didn't want him to worry about you. He already didn't like the part of town you lived in, had begged you to let him help you find a new place. But you liked it, had found a community. Plus, it helped everyone knew you were a doctor, so they came to you for help and didn't cause you any trouble. You'd tried explaining that to him, but he didn't seem to listen. It was obvious, though, that he cared.

"It's nothing, Jay. Someone just...broke into my place." The look on his face was enough to make you feel guilty, the look of surprise and worry. "I'm fine though. They were long gone before I got home. It probably helped that I got off late."

You weren't expecting him to envelop you in his arms, pulling you against him as you let out a shaky sigh. It was nice, felt safe as he just held you like you'd done for him many times.

"I just worry about you, Y/N," he told you when you finally pulled back just far enough to look up at him. "I...I care about you. A lot."

"I-" You weren't able to get the thought out of your mouth before Roman interrupted the moment.

"Looks like you're TV is missing. We took pictures, go ahead and go through as you clean up, and make a list of anything else that's missing and just send it in so it can go in the report," the patrolman told you with a smile. You nodded in response before taking Jay's hand and leading him up to your apartment.

It was the first time he'd ever been to your place, and now, he was helping you clean it up as you changed out of your scrubs and into a tank-top and some sweats. It didn't take long to make a dent, a list of missing items so far scribbled on a notepad on the kitchen table. It had given you time to think, looking over at Jay.

"Jay," you said, getting his attention, his eyebrows raising in question as he held one of your medical books. "I care about you too, a lot."

"Y/N, I just meant." You refused to let him finish that sentence, closing the distance between you two and kissing him, the medical book falling to the floor in surprise before his hands found your waist.

"I love you, Jay," you said against his lips. Like you'd said, it had been leading up to this point, and you'd known how you felt about him for a long time.

—-

The two of you gave it some time before telling Will. Despite Jay's constant assurances, you were worried it would ruin your friendship with his brother. And you liked being friends with Will. It made your days at work go easier, had someone to bounce ideas and differential diagnoses off of, and someone to vent to. You didn't want to risk it by dating his brother.

"Jay, I don't know," you said as the two of you got out of the car, Jay handing the keys to the valet. He'd convinced Will to come out for a nice meal downtown, Jay's treat, had suggested you come along too.

"It'll be okay, babe. We've been sneaking around for what, two months now? Will needs to hear it from us," he reminded you, kissing you softly before taking you inside.

You saw Will already at the table, smiling when he saw the two of you. Jay pulled your chair out for you before sitting between you and Will. You could feel his foot brush against yours, trying to hide the blush forming on your cheeks.

"So, what calls for the special occasion, Jay?" Will asked as the waiter poured the wine.

"What? Can't invite my brother and brother's best friend out to dinner just for the hell of it?" Jay retorted, taking a drink out of his wine glass.

"Oh come on, it's gotta be more than that. Especially because you're looking at shelling out close to one-fifty for this dinner." You didn't say anything as the brothers went back and forth a couple more times until Jay reached across the table, taking your hand and giving you a smile.

"Y/N and I are together, Will," Jay said, and you waited with baited breath for Will's reaction. You weren't expecting a deep bellied laugh, making you think he thought it was a joke. That was until he stopped long enough to say something.

"It's about time! We're toasting to this!" You wouldn't deny Will the toast, smiling over at Jay. This was your happy place.

—

The two of you had fought before, mostly small arguments that led to apologies over dinner. You'd brought up moving in together several times, but Jay kept brushing it off. For as much as he hated where you lived, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't seriously consider it. For how long you'd known each other, how long you'd been together, it seemed like the natural next step.

"Jay, why are you so against the idea?" you asked him, washing the dishes as he nursed a beer next to you.

"Why can't you just leave it alone?" It wasn't that you wanted to fight with him, but when he wouldn't talk to you, it was frustrating.

"You always complain about where I live, have been trying to get me to find a new place for nearly as long as we have known each other!" you reminded him, tossing the cup into the sink to turn and look at him.

"Yeah, for you to find a new place. Your own place, Y/N." You scoffed. It was as if he didn't want you to move in with him, didn't want to progress your relationship.

"Are you hiding something, Jay? Is there a reason you don't want me to move in with you? Because if there is, and you tell me, I might understand better than you just blowing it off every time I bring it up!" He slammed the beer glass down on the counter, turning to walk away from you. Which is why you grabbed him by the wrist. It wasn't hard, but it got his attention. "What the hell is going on?"

He pulled his arm away defensively, starting to say something before cutting himself off, mouth pressed in a thin line. You just wanted him to talk to you.

"Just drop it, Y/N. I just don't want you moving in with me." Those words cut you deeper than you'd like to admit. He didn't seem to catch on to how that hurt.

"Get out," you said softly, getting a confused look in return.

"Wh-Y/N, come on," he said softly, beginning to reach out to you. You jerked your arm back.

"Get out, Jay!" you said again, throwing the dish towel at him. "Get out!"

Maybe you were overreacting, but you were allowed your emotions. Just like he was allowed to not want you to move in with him. He didn't say anything else as he put his shoes on and got his jacket. You opened the front door, waiting for him to step out. When he did, he turned back to say something, but you slammed the door in his face.

He'd tried calling you, texting you, for several days, but you'd refused to answer. That was until Will cornered you in the doctor's lounge at work one morning about a week later. He looked pissed.

"Look, Will, whatever Jay told you," you tried saying, trying to defend yourself, but he cut you off pretty fast.

"That's the thing. Jay won't tell me anything. So, can you tell me why my brother has been crashing on my couch, moping for the past week?" he asked, causing you to sigh.

"I brought up the idea of us moving in together, but he won't even entertain the idea. When I asked him why, he said he didn't want me moving in with him, just like that. 'I don't want you moving in with me.' So, whatever he's moping about, he brought it on himself," you explained, Will looking confused, but not saying anything. You knew Will would choose Jay over you if it came down to it, but you also knew what you were getting yourself into.

As the day went on, Will kept looking at you, and it was a bit unsettling. But you stood by what you said. Jay brought it on himself. At the end of your shift, when you were grabbing your bags, Will came in again, sitting on the couch.

"My brother can be a knucklehead Y/N/N," he told you, "but I know that boy loves you more than anything. You know he has his own demons he fights, and sometimes it gets bad."

"Yeah, I know," you reminded him. It wasn't a big secret.

"Have you seen him after the nightmares? After the flashbacks? Some of the triggers that makes him think he's back there, where he doesn't know he's in Chicago again, still thinking he's fighting for his life?" That part you didn't know. Usually, when he was having a bad day or night, he'd send you home and promise to call you the next day. You understood why now.

"No. No, I-Dammit," you replied, head resting on your forearm against your locker.

"Look, I'm kicking him out back to his apartment tonight, go talk to him, please?" Will said, getting a nod from you.

You had gone home, gotten changed, and stopped at the store to buy a pack of his favorite beer as a peace offering. Then, you found yourself outside his apartment door, debating on knocking. It felt like the first time you'd shown up all over again, this time, a little more need behind it. When you did knock, and he did answer, he looked like shit.

"Can I come in?" you asked, Jay just stepping out of your way. You set the pack of beer down on the table, turning to look at him. "I'm sorry."

"No. No, you have every right to be mad at me, Y/N," he told you, shaking his head.

"I talked to Will, but I want to hear it from you, Jay. Tell me, why don't you want me to move in with you?" He couldn't look at you, and you knew better than to push him in that moment. So, you just took off your jacket and sat down at the table.

"When I first got back, I thought it would get better at first. Will had convinced me to go out to New York and visit him. I thought it would be a good idea, but New York is a different kind of crazy. That first night I was out there with him wasn't good." He sat down across from you, leg bouncing under the table as he looked down at his hands. "When I realized where I was, I had Will pinned down with a black eye, a split lip, and a knife to his throat. It...It doesn't happen very often any more, but sometimes."

"Are you worried you'll hurt me?" you asked him, getting a nod in response. "Is that why you don't let me stay when you're having a bad day?" You got another nod.

"I just. I didn't want you to think differently of me because of it," he told you, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

"I love you, Jay," you assured him. "No matter what. I just...I want you to let me in, no matter how bad you think it is, okay? We're in this together. Do you want me to stay tonight?"

"Yes," he answered, and that was good enough for you.

—-

It seemed like smooth sailing from there. You still hadn't moved in with Jay, but now that you knew why he was hesitant, you understood. He was opening up to the idea more and more though. However, you always assured him that it was okay, that there was no rush.

You got a text from him, asking if you could come over. You didn't think twice when grabbing your coat and heading out the door. When you knocked though, there was no answer, which was more than unusual for Jay. Trying the door, it was already unlocked.

"Jay," you called out, opening the door. You could hear him crying from inside the apartment. You shut the door behind you, tossing your coat on the back of the couch. You found him with his head on his knees, hands covering his head, sitting on the floor with his back against the bedroom wall.

"Baby," you said again softly, but he didn't look up at you. So, you sat down next to him, wrapping your arm around his back and pulling him close. That seemed to be enough for him to hold onto you. You didn't know what was wrong, but it broke your heart to see him like this. It took a while for his sobs to die down, him just holding you.

"Let's go to bed, okay?" you suggested. "Let's just sleep."

"Sleep," he said, mumbling against your neck. You could tell he was on the edge of crying again. "I just want to sleep."

"Let's sleep," you said again, getting up and helping him up in the process. He was still shaking, face pale. "Are you hurt?" you then asked, Jay shaking his head in response.

You kicked off your shoes, letting him lay down on the bed before joining him. He moved to rest his head on your lap, facing your stomach, with his arm around your waist. Your fingers combed through his hair. Eventually, his breathing evened out, telling you he was asleep.

Reluctantly, you did the same. It wasn't comfortable, but Jay was what mattered. You weren't expecting him to wake up so soon, or screaming. But he did, and he was. It terrified you, trying to get him to calm down. He scrambled off the bed, landing on his ass hard. Something had happened that shook him. This didn't seem like it was Afghanistan.

"Jay, look at me," you told him, kneeling in front of him. "Come on, Jay, look at me," you said again, Jay looking up at you. "What's going on with you? What happened?" You'd promised him you'd never ask questions on his bad days, but this was different. You were worried.

"A kid was shot," he told you softly, seeming to look through you and not at you. "Over there, it was different. It was a war. Us versus them. Here… She was six, wrong place, wrong time." You figured it must have been a suspect that had shot her, but Jay didn't seem to be done. "The bullet came from my gun, Y/N. I wasn't. I didn't mean to."

"I know, I know," you assured him, holding his hands. There wasn't anything you could say or do that would make it better. But you could be there for him.

—-

The first time you went to the district, you didn't know what to expect. Jay had always told you it wasn't necessary, but you felt like it was time. You wanted to meet the people Jay trusted to have his back day in and day out. When you first walked in, the first people you saw were Burgess and Roman.

"Y/N!" Kim said excitedly, pulling you in for a hug. "Heard you finally moved in with Jay. That's exciting."

"It is. Just took a while. But, it's all going good. Speaking of Jay, can you point me in his direction?" Kim just rolled her eyes, leading you up to the desk.

"I can't, but Sergeant Platt here can," she said, walking away with a look. You didn't understand why, turning your attention to the older Sergeant.

"Hi, Sergeant. I'm here to say Detective Halstead. Can you show me where he might be?" you asked, Platt looking at you like you had a third head. You couldn't understand why. Had he kept you a secret or something?

"So, you're the one keeping Chuckle's head on straight?" she asked, picking up the phone. "Halstead. You have a visitor." It didn't seem like she waited for an answer before hanging up. "You can take a seat over there," she then said, pointing to a bench.

You took a seat, confused, but following instruction. As you waited for Jay, you saw Platt continue to look over at you with confusion. It seemed busy, the district. Jay had mentioned it could be busy, but it was different seeing it first hand. You heard a gate open and shut, then saw him bounding down the stairs with a smile on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming, Y/N?" he asked, kissing you when you stood.

"What? Can't I surprise my boyfriend at work?" He just laughed, leading you up the stairs and to the right, scanning you both into the unit. It seemed like nobody noticed you at first, then one by one, they turned around to look at you. Almost staring. "Jay?"

"Guys, this is Y/N," he said, hand resting on your back. He had a smile, and seemed to be waiting for something. "That's Adam Ruzek," Jay told you, pointing to the younger guy on the back wall. "That's his partner, Al. That's Kevin Atwater. Antonio Dawson. And that is my partner, Erin Lindsay."

"I'm Sergeant Hank Voight," an older man said from the door of a private office. "And you must be, Y/N Y/L/N." He walked over, shaking your hand. When you looked at Jay, this seemed to be the thing he was waiting for. "Our boy treating you right?"

"Yeah. The perfect guy," you answered. "And I treat him the same, sir." That seemed to be a good answer because he brought you in for a quick hug.

"Welcome to the family."

—-

"So, did you and Erin ever have a thing?" you asked Jay later that night, the two of you curled up on the couch, curious. Antonio had talked to you when Jay was getting you coffee, saying he was glad Jay had found someone like you.

"What gave you that idea?" he asked. He didn't sound offended or worried, so you figured you had nothing to worry about. You slapped his chest gently with a smile, wanting an actual answer. "We did, a long time ago. It didn't last long, and it didn't work out. We're better off as friends."

"She's pretty. Seems nice. As long as she has your back," you told him, knowing it seemed like she did.

You weren't jealous. You had Jay, it was that simple. When you met her, talked to her, it seemed like Jay couldn't shut up about you. She seemed happy for you two. Jay gave you a funny look, though.

"I'm not jealous, Jay. No worries. You trust her, I trust her," you assured him, pecking his lips with a smile before asking something else. "What do you want for your future?" It was something you hadn't talked about very often, maybe a handful of times.

"What do you mean?" he asked. His fingers traced a non-existent pattern on your arm as he looked at you.

"Where do you see yourself in five, ten years?" you elaborated.

"Probably have a house in a decent neighborhood. Not Lake Shore obviously," he said with a chuckle. "A dog running around with a couple kids in the backyard. Having annual barbeques, Christmas parties. An amazing wife to come home to. Maybe by then, I'll be running Intelligence."

"A couple kids and an amazing wife?" you asked, hopeful.

"Mhm," he hummed, kissing you again. "I have a pretty good idea who that wife'll be."

You guys were coming up on that year and a half mark, and things were going smoothly again. You weren't expecting a ring any time soon, but it was nice knowing that he planned to have a long future with you.

"What about you, hmm? Where do you see yourself?" he countered, knowing you had a similar idea.

"A house up in Lincoln Park. Trips to the zoo every Sunday. Showing off my hot detective husband to all the neighbors every chance I can. A couple of kids to spoil. Running the ED," you told him.

"Hot detective husband?" Jay asked. "You looking at shacking up with Ruzek or Atwater and not telling me?" That earned him another smack, but you both laughed about it before you got serious for a minute.

"I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, Jay Halstead," you told him.

"Good. I wouldn't have it any other way," he assured you.

—-

You knew Jay's job was dangerous and could include him going undercover. It worried you, you didn't like it, but it wasn't your choice. So, when Jay called you in the middle of your shift one day, you knew it was something important. You excused yourself with Maggie to answer the phone in the lounge.

"Hey, Jay, what's up?" you asked, leaning against the glass.

"We caught a case. Voight is sending me to go undercover," he told you, your smile dropping. "It's going to be a few days at least. But Voight and Erin know to call you if things go south."

"Jay. I love you," you told him, trying to keep it together. It was a great opportunity for him, but it terrified you.

"I love you too, Y/N. I've got to go, but I'll call you when I can," he told you, quickly hanging up. You gave yourself another minute to compose yourself before going back to work. You couldn't help but worry.

It had been nearly a week, not hearing anything from anybody in Intelligence. You were driving yourself crazy with what-ifs and worst case scenarios. The apartment was spotless at this point, cleaning to try and put your mind at ease. It didn't help though, feeling like you were bouncing off the walls. When your phone rang, you answered it without a second thought.

"Is he?" you asked, needing to know.

"He's alive," Erin told you. "He's roughed up, but he's on his way home to you. Just, Y/N?"

"Yeah," you said, curious as to what she was wanting to say.

"It was rough on him. Give him some time."

"Okay. Okay, I will," you said before Erin hung up.

You were worried. The fact that Erin said it was bad, knowing Jay, you didn't know what to expect when he walked through that door. It was about an hour later that you heard the door unlock and open, a bag getting dropped and a sigh. You let him come to you, but it wasn't at first. You'd been laying on the couch, reading a book. Jay walked by you, beelining towards the bathroom. The shower turned on, so you knew it would be a while longer. You took what Erin had said though, and knew what to do with it. He needed space, and would come to you when he was ready.

When the shower turned off and you heard the bathroom door open, you looked up at him. Erin could never have prepared you for what you saw, not sure why he wasn't admitted to a hospital. He probably pulled the 'my girlfriend is a doctor' card.

He'd just pulled on a pair of boxers, letting you see everything that had been done to him. His left thigh was nearly completely bruised and swollen, left calf with yellowing bruises. His hand right hand was in a splint, bruises across his ribs on both sides. His abdomen riddled with fist size bruises. From the bruising around his neck, you figured he'd been choked by a pair of hands. One of his eyes was nearly swollen shut, lip busted, cheekbones hidden under bruises of their own. A cut across the bridge of his nose. It took everything you had in you to not cry, tears welling in your eyes against your own inner protests.

He just stood there, not looking at you, not moving in one direction or the other. You stood from your spot on the couch, walking over to him slowly. You didn't say anything, taking in the injuries you couldn't see from that far away.

"What-Are you-" You didn't know what to ask.

"I got made," he told you. "I got recognized by someone I'd busted before."

"Why aren't you at the hospital?" you then asked. Gently, you touched him, feeling along his ribs, trying to see if you could feel any instability. Instead, all you got was a wince.

"I was already checked out at the hospital. I just-I wanted to come home." You couldn't blame him, plus, you'd drive him to the hospital yourself if things got bad.

"Okay. Let's go to bed," you suggested, getting a nod in return.

—

Two years. You and Jay had been together for two years, and it had been the best two years of your life. Sure, it had its ups and downs, but it was all worth it. He was all worth it. He'd told you to get dressed up, that he had something planned.

It had been just shy of five months since his undercover operation, and you worried a little less now. It didn't come to mind as often anymore, but now you'd had your nightmares as well. And Jay was there for you, just like you'd always been there for him. So, when he'd told you that he had something planned for your anniversary, you allowed yourself to get excited. Jay always had something up his sleeve.

"Wow, Y/N," he said when you stepped into the living room. He looked pretty dapper himself, wearing a nice suit. You'd opted for a short black dress with a low cut and a nice necklace.

"You look pretty sleek yourself," you said, walking over and fixing his tie for him. He smiled, kissing you. "Now, are you going to tell me where we're going?" you asked.

"Again, baby, it's a surprise," he told you, getting a faux pout which caused him to laugh. "Let's go." You took his hand, going down to the car with him. He opened the door like a gentleman, heading out once you were both bucked up.

You saw him drive through the city, coming up to a nice dinner downtown near the pier. Dinner was nice, the two of you talking and enjoying the night. You always loved downtown Chicago at night, so when Jay suggested a walk down to the pier, you weren't going to say no. It wasn't far. Plus, if your heels started hurting your feet, you knew Jay would carry you.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me," he told you as you neared the railing of the pier. "After things with Erin, I'd given up. But then Will introduced us at Molly's, and...I don't know. I knew you'd be important in my life, but I never thought it would be like this."

"I love you too, Jay," you told him with a smile. He'd never looked at you like this before. Sure, you'd seen him look at you with love, but this was something else. Almost like hope. Then, he leaned against the railing, looking out at the city. You leaned your head against his shoulder, resting your hand on top of his.

You stood there with Jay, neither of you saying anything. That was until he pulled away, looking at you again.

"What's going on in that head of yours, Halstead?" you asked, curious. He didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed something out of his pocket, your breath hitching in the back of your throat. "Jay."

"Y/N," he said, kneeling down on one knee. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth, not expecting this. "These past two years have been...the best years. And I want the next two years to be the best, and then the next after that, and after that, until we're old and grey and in a home, thinking it's this night all over again. Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, I'll marry you," you agreed, nodding vehemently as he slipped the engagement ring on your finger. When he stood, you threw your arms around his neck, kissing him heatedly. This was the best night of your life so far, aside from the night you met him.

—-

You'd told Will the next time you worked, knowing he knew already. You recognized the ring from pictures. It was their mother's. He was excited for you both, never thinking a friendship would come to being your brother-in-law. But out of all the people he knew, of all the people Jay had dated, he was glad it was you Jay had chosen you to spend the rest of his life with.

—-

Jay had dropped you off at work, kissed you, and told you he'd see you later when he picked you up. He'd expected it to be a slow day for him, which meant it wasn't for you. It seemed like every three minutes another ambulance came in. It was non-stop, barely stopping for a drink. You'd barely heard Will say your name, focused on a spot on the wall. His hand came down on your shoulder, focusing on him.

"You feeling okay, Y/N/N," he asked, giving him a nod. Maggie called your name as next up for the incoming patient, until you took a step, grabbing Will's arm as you started to go down.

Will got you to the closest empty room, April starting an IV. You didn't want anybody to worry, but they insisted. You had felt fine until Will had gotten your attention, feeling dizzy before going down.

"I'm fine, Will," you assured him. "I'm just dehydrated. I'll be fine." You were insistent, but at the same time, something was off. You'd been feeling off for a while. You'd chalked it up to nerves, having set a wedding date.

"We're still going to run labs, Y/N. Just to be sure. I won't call, Jay, but you might want to." You nodded again, grabbing your phone. You didn't want to make him worry, but Will was right. Instead of calling, you sent him a text, not wanting to hear him worry. You fell asleep while waiting for the lab results to come back, IV still in your arm. When you woke up, it was to Jay at the nurse's station asking where you were.

"Are you okay?" he asked, rushing into the room. You could see he was worried, and that was the last thing you wanted.

"I'm fine, Jay. I'm fine," you assured him, taking his hand in yours. "I just got lightheaded, okay. Will's running some tests, but I can assure you, all they're going to say is that I was dehydrated."

He looked you over, sitting in the chair next to your bed. The two of you sat in silence, his elbows resting on the bed with your hand still in his. You took the opportunity to stroke his cheek softly as an assurance.

"Well, your tests came back," Will said with a folder in his hand and a smile on his face. "Sorry to interrupt the sweet moment."

"And, is she okay, Will?" Jay asked, getting you to chuckle in response to how he asked it, getting a glare from him in response.

"Your tests show that yes, you were dehydrated. But also, you're anemic. And your hCG is positive," Will told you, knowing Jay wouldn't understand the medical jargon. "I'll leave you to explain it to my brother." Jay looked over at you, confused, not sure what was going on.

"My iron is low, Jay. And I'm pregnant," you told him as soon as Will left the room, shutting the door behind him. Jay looked at you, confused, looking between you and your stomach. You'd talked before, knew he wanted kids, but maybe it was too soon for him. Maybe he wasn't ready yet. That was until you saw the corners of his lips twitch before smiling.

"You're pregnant?" he asked, probably making sure he was hearing it right. You just nodded before he kissed you. When he pulled away, his hand rested on your stomach. It was all too surreal, but this was your life.

—

The pregnancy was going smoothly, no complications, finally popped at five months. Everyone at work was excited, and Will was more than happy to help look after you when Jay wasn't there. Jay worried, more than he should, but you liked the fact that he cared enough to have Will keep an eye on you.

Your shift was going good, not as busy as it could have been. You had just sat down when Maggie came over, hand on your shoulder. You didn't think anything of it as you typed your reports. You'd heard her call an incoming, but knew you weren't going to get it. You'd asked to not be given anything strenuous, more at Jay's request, but you agreed at this point.

Maggie didn't leave your side though. You barely noticed the ambulance that came in, a whirlwind of people coming in with whoever it was, more focused on the report. Reports didn't write themselves though. However, you did notice when Ethan screamed at Will, "Get out of the goddamn room, Will!" That drew your attention, looking over to see half of Intelligence standing outside the room, Erin covered in blood. Maggie squeezed your shoulder a little harder, not letting you stand up at first.

"Jay!" you called out, pushing Maggie away. Erin looked over at you, and you couldn't describe what you felt or what the hell that look in her eyes was. You walked over, not making it past the nurse's station when you saw him through the glass, a sob caught in the back of your throat. Every fiber of your being wanted you to rush in there, to help in any way you could, but you couldn't get your legs to cooperate.

"What-?" Your voice cracked, looking at Erin. "You're supposed to have his back! You're supposed to make sure this doesn't happen!" you yelled at her, Will holding you back. If he hadn't you would've hit her.

Hank was the one to walk over and hug you, letting you cry into his chest. You knew he'd explain it to you when you calmed down, and when you did, he sat you down. Your arms crossed protectively across your stomach, waiting for him to tell you what happened. The rest of Intelligence made their way to the waiting room.

"Erin and Jay were going to interview a witness. They didn't expect the witness to open fire on them. Jay was hit three times. Once in the leg, once in the abdomen, and once in the upper chest. Erin got a graze because he pushed her out of the way, Y/N," he explained to her.

"I can't…" you said, struggling to talk, struggling to breathe as your breaths came in short, sharp breaths. "Jay is…"

"You work with these docs, you know them. They're going to do everything they can for him, okay. If you trust them, we trust them," Hank told you. It still felt like you couldn't breathe, but you knew you needed to calm down. It wasn't good for the baby, and as much as you wanted to believe Jay would pull through, you didn't want to risk the possible last part of him you might have.

Hank stood, Will taking his place. He took your hands in his, and you could tell he was barely keeping it together.

"Breathe with me," he said, breathing deep and regular, following his pattern. "That's it. That's it," he praised.

Will stood you up at that point, taking you into the lounge so that you had a view of Baghdad if things changed with Jay.

You remembered leaving the house that morning, having driven separately. He'd been dressed in his leather jacket, a grey t-shirt, and his khakis, beanie on his head. He'd kissed you, hand on your stomach, told you he'd loved you and left since your shift started later than usual. It was a normal morning, it was supposed to be a normal day, and you were supposed to see him when you got home that night.

When Ethan came in, it didn't seem like good news. You could tell by the look on his face. You squeezed Will's hand a little harder, waiting for Ethan to tell you that Jay died.

"Connor is taking him up to surgery now. It's...It's not looking good, guys," Ethan told you, sitting on the coffee table with his arms across his lap, leaning towards you. "One bullet is lodged in his leg. The second was a through-and-through the right side of his abdomen, nicking a kidney. The third is very close to his heart, and hit his lung," Ethan told you, causing you to start crying again. "Connor is the best surgeon in this hospital, and he's going to do everything he can for Jay." You knew that was a fact.

—

Will had moved you to the waiting room in the surgery wing, waiting with you, as well as the Intelligence unit. They didn't say anything to you, though, as you leaned against Will. It had been nearly five hours since they'd taken Jay up to surgery, and you hadn't heard anything. You hoped that was a good thing.

Connor came out, looking tired. You stayed sitting, not sure if you wanted to stand up for this.

"He's out of surgery. I managed to get both bullets out, repaired as much damage as I could. I expect him to make a good recovery. Maybe not a full recovery because of the damage to his leg, but a good recovery," Connor told the group, looking you in the eye the entire time.

"He's alive?" you asked, getting a nod from Connor. "I-I need to see him."

Connor helped you up from your seat, leading you to his room. He was still hooked up to wires and machines, but he was alive.

"Dammit, Jay," you told him, sitting next to him. You knew it would be a while before he was awake, and you wouldn't leave his side until he was. That was until Goodwin came in a few hours later, telling you to go home and that they'd watch over him for you. Will was there to back her up, saying he would take you back to your apartment and was going to stay the night.

The drive back was quiet, not saying anything the entire way. You weren't sure how you were going to handle it, being at the apartment without Jay. But before you knew it, Will was parked outside.

"Let's go," he told you, not giving you any time to adjust or process going inside without Jay. You followed though, letting him unlock and open the door. It was just how you'd left it this morning, Jay's coffee mug still on the kitchen counter, half empty. Pajamas still on the floor. Even though Connor said he expected Jay to recover, you knew he wasn't out of the woods yet.

—-

The next morning, Will drove you back to the hospital, ditching him in the ED and making your way upstairs. When you walked in the room, you weren't expecting him to be awake, but he was, an oxygen mask still on his face. He looked over at you, reaching up to grab the mask.

"If you take that mask off, I'll shoot you myself," you told him as a warning, sitting down in the uncomfortable chair. "What the hell, Jay?" you then said, not sure what to say as tears came to your eyes again.

He didn't say anything, reaching over to grab your hand. You didn't pull away although you wanted to. You were pissed, but so relieved that he was alive and awake and would hopefully be okay.

"I thought...I thought I lost you, Jay," you told him. "There...It was different when you came home after that undercover mission. You came home, beaten, but home. This time...You got wheeled in, unconscious, with three bullet wounds, Jay."

"I know," he said, his mask fogging up. "Erin. Is Erin okay?" he asked, worried.

You nodded while assuring him, "Erin's okay. It's just a graze. You got the worst of it."

You'd understood his job, had told yourself over the years that you knew what you were getting into when you started dating him. It was different though when something bad like this happened, it made you worry more now.

"I thought you were going to die, Jay," you continued. "I thought I was going to have to raise this baby alone." You couldn't help when the tears started again.

"Y/N," he said, pulling the mask off his face despite your warning not to. "I didn't mean to get shot. When I was laying on that porch, all I could think of was you and the baby, how much I love you both, but this is my job."

"I know, Jay. I knew what your job was when I started seeing you, when I agreed to marry you. This just makes it more real, how dangerous your job is. I'm just glad your alive."

He took a deep breath out of the mask before talking again. "You're not getting rid of me that easily," he told you, earning him a kiss with tears on your cheeks.

—-

His recovery wasn't easy on either of you, but it was progress. You were nearing the end of your pregnancy, on maternity leave, when he went back to work just shy of four months later. It was nerve wracking for you, but you didn't say anything. Though, he promised to check in with you regularly.

What you weren't expecting was to start feeling cramping when the two of you woke up. Halfway through the day, your water broke. At first, you didn't want to worry Jay, wanting him to go back to work, but when your water broke, you knew it was time.

"Checking up on me already," he joked when you called. You could hear the bustle of the bullpen in the background.

"I need you to come home, Jay," you told him, which caught his attention.

"Babe, you don't have to worry-" You cut him off.

"Jay, my water just broke. I need you to come drive me to the hospital," you told him, and you could hear him pack up his stuff on the other line, not saying anything. You went ahead and took the opportunity to hang up the phone and make sure you had everything ready to go for when he got there.

It was of course Jay's style to drive his car with lights and sirens to get home, illegally parking and running up the stairs. You were sitting on the couch, bags next to the door, breathing through a pretty bad contraction when he burst in.

"How you feeling?" he asked, out of breath as he knelt in front of you. Your hands resting on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes as you tried to breathe through it, a grimace on your face. "Forget I asked." Once it was over, he stood you up, letting you lean on him.

"I started feeling it this morning right before you left, but didn't tell you because I just thought it was some Braxton-Hicks," you explained before another contraction hit you harder. You should have gone to the hospital sooner because the contractions were getting closer and closer together. "How bad is traffic, Jay?" you asked him.

"It's Chicago," he answered, confused. "Why?"

"Because I'm not delivering our baby in a car. Will was on his way over before I called you, he should be here any time," you explained. You knew you wouldn't make it to the hospital, but knew his brother could get you through this.

"You're not delivering the baby in the apartment," he countered, looking at you like you were insane.

"Will is on his way," you told him again. "There will be two doctors here. And I'd rather," you cried out in pain again, nearly doubling over. "We won't make it to a hospital," you said through clenched teeth, holding onto him for dear life, sure you were going to leave a bruise on his bicep.

"Okay, I'll call Will and see where he's at. What do I need to do?" he asked, sitting you down on the couch again. This was crazy, all of it was crazy.

"Towels, all of them. We'll replace them, okay? A couple washcloths and some boiling water," you told him. "I know Will will probably have everything else in his car."

He smiled widely at you, taking your head in his hands and kissing you with that goofy grin. "We're having a baby," he said with a laugh, getting you to smile too.

"Yeah, we're having a baby. Now go get the stuff ready." You patted his cheek, maybe a little too hard, but he didn't seem to notice, standing up still smiling. You decided to go ahead and call Will, because knowing Jay, he'd forget.

"How close are you?" you asked him once he answered.

"Five minutes. Why? What's wrong?" he asked. You couldn't help but chuckle, knowing those two were so alike.

"We're having the baby at home. We won't make it to the hospital. I need you to get here now, and bring whatever you have in that rolling ambulance that you call a car," you explained, groaning through another contraction. "And I need you to step on it, okay?"

"Where are we doing this?" Jay asked, holding a pile of towels. Why did you guys have so many towels? You'd never understand his hoarding of towels, because ninety percent of them were his from before you moved in.

"Living room floor is fine," you assured him. You couldn't believe this was happening. Your plan had been to deliver in a hospital, with medical staff available, and medical equipment, not on the floor of your home. But when did anything with you and Jay go according to a plan. This baby sure wasn't in the plan yet, him getting shot, you even being together. None of it was in the plan, but it worked. The two of you worked together to make it work. That's how you knew it was going to work out.

"Jay, you're getting me out of some red-light traffic tickets," Will called out as soon as he stepped through the door, quickly making his way to your side. "How you feeling?"

"Like you got here just in time. Now, let's not make this awkward. As much as I trust you, Will." You hushed your voice, "I want you to help Jay deliver this baby, not do it yourself, okay?" He just nodded, understanding.

"You feel like you're gonna need to start pushing soon?" he then asked, getting a nod in response as he helped you to the floor. You got situated where you needed to be, Jay kneeling beside you as Will got everything set up.

"Jay," you whined, head resting on his chest. He stroked his hand through your hair, pushing it out of your face.

"You've got this," he assured you. "You're the most amazing woman ever, and you've got this. I've got you though."

"Will's going to talk you through this," you told him, looking up at him as terror and confusion took over his face.

"What do you mean? I'm not. Will's here to deliver the baby," he reminded you, sputtering as he tried to say it.

"Jay," you said, squeezing his hand. "I want you to, please. This is not an ideal situation. But these are the cards we were dealt okay? For me." He just nodded, kissing you again before Will interrupted.

"You guys ready to have a baby?" You weren't, but there was no other choice. You let go of Jay's hand, letting Will direct him as you got your pants off. It would be one thing if it was just Jay, would be a bit more relaxed. The fact Will was there also was a bit embarrassing, despite the fact that he was your best friend, and Jay's brother.

"On the next contraction, I need you to push," Will told you. Your eyes met Jay's, and you knew you could do anything as long as he was by your side.

—-

Leo was barely six months old when Jay got his first case regarding a kid since he'd become a father. You'd gotten a text from Erin giving you a heads up when the case was wrapped and that Jay was on his way home. Unfortunately, you couldn't just keep Leo awake to wait for Jay, but you could have a cup of tea waiting for him when he got home.

You were standing in the kitchen, finishing up the tea when you heard the front door quietly open and close. It was late, close to eleven. You figured Jay didn't think you were still up, considering the look of confusion on his face when he saw you with to mugs in your hand.

"Let's talk about it," you told him, setting the cups down on the table before helping him get his jacket off. He looked exhausted, like the case had aged him ten years. He sat down on the couch, you joining him, your legs draped over his thighs as you curled into his side, his arm around you.

"Before Leo, before you," he sighed, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Kids make this job harder, they always have. I never understood why Antonio reacted the way he did though to those cases, until today. He gave me this look, as if to say I could finally understand. The kid was three, Y/N." He stared ahead, at the bedroom door, knowing Leo was right behind it, safe.

"You and me, we can protect him," you reminded Jay. "We can raise him right, and protect him, and teach him to make the right choices."

"What if we can't? There are some sick, sick fucks in this city who prey on children. You let your kid out of your sight for a split second, and someone can snatch them up." You looked up at him, gently turning his head to look at you with your hand on his cheek, his stubble rough against your palm.

"Well, then, we do what nobody has done before. Have Mouse put a tracker on our kids," you said with a smile, half joking, but honestly debating it. That got him to crack a small smile, pressing a kiss against his lips. "Let's drink our tea, relax, and then you can check on Leo, and we'll go to bed okay?"

And that's exactly what you did. You'd climbed into bed, waiting for him to join you, your son cradled in his arms, out like a light and sleeping like a baby. You could see him trace Leo's chubby cheeks softly, kissing the baby's forehead before laying him back down.

"We made that," he whispered when he got in bed with you, settling into his usual spot as big spoon.

"We did. And we're going to do good with him," you assured Jay.

—-

You had been born an raised in Chicago, had gone to college in Chicago, had gone to medical school in Chicago, had met an amazing guy, gotten married, and had three amazing kids with him, all in Chicago. It was your home, and you could never think of leaving it.

You could remember that conversation you'd had with him, seemingly forever ago in the old apartment about the future and what you'd expected from it. It had taken a while, but you'd gotten there eventually. You'd bought a house in Lincoln Park when Leo was a little over a year, the both of you saving every penny you could. You brought home Grace and Tommy home to that house after they'd been born. You'd had many fights, but even more happy memories in that house.

You were standing at the kitchen counter, the beginning of grey hairs at your temples, nursing a cup of coffee when Jay came to stand behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. You couldn't help but smile.

Voight had retired nearly a decade ago, leaving the unit to Jay. He ran it very similar to the stories you'd heard, but a little less dirty. Erin had moved to New York to pursue bigger dreams, though, she visited often just to spoil the kids. Adam and Kim had finally gotten married. Kevin finally found someone that could keep up with him. Antonio couldn't handle the stress anymore and went to teaching boxing full time. And they'd lost Al too soon. Will had met an amazing nurse at work, hit it off right away. As for you and Jay, well, that conversation from a couple decades ago still rang true in your head.

"When we first met, did you think we'd ever end up here?" you asked him, glancing over.

"Marrying my brother's best friend wasn't on the top of my list when we first met, no," he answered. You could hear the kids bickering in the living room, not bothering to break it up yet. Usually, it wasn't until somebody was crying, but since they were teenagers now, you figured they could figure it out themselves.

"Do you remember that conversation we had though? At the old apartment after I met the team for the first time, when we talked about our future?" you asked him.

"Not the hot detective husband you were hoping for?" he joked, intertwining the fingers of your free hand with his.

"I mean, I'm hoping Kim realizes soon that Adam has a thing for me," you jabbed back before kissing Jay with a smile. "This is what I imagined back then, Jay."

"Good, because I wouldn't have it any other way. Now, we should get ready, Will is gonna be over anytime with the kids," he reminded you. You didn't let him leave yet, the two of you standing there for a minute longer before you let him go get the meat ready for the barbeque. Looking back, you never thought your life would end up here, but you wouldn't change a single thing. You caught Jay's eye through the window to the back yard, that goofy grin still on his face after all these years, and you realized you wouldn't have it any other way.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Trigger warning for semi-graphic torture scenes

The day you were brought upstairs from being a beat cop was one of the best days of your life. You'd helped out many times on Intelligence cases, had caught the eye of the key players in the team. Your partner, Kim Burgess, was excited for you, but you knew she wanted that spot when Erin left.

It was a once in a lifetime opportunity for you, and you wouldn't turn it down just to try and be nice to Kim's feelings. Plus, the night Voight had extended the opportunity to you, you and Kim had gone out to Molly's, Kim had bought you a round, had excessively congratulated you with Adam by her side. He told you how excited he was to have you upstairs now, but he gave you a warning that night.

"Jay and Erin, they had a good thing going, and he's taking her leaving pretty hard," Adam explained. "So, don't be surprised if you don't get a warm welcome."

"I'm not too worried," you replied. "He'll warm up to me pretty fast, considering how charming I can be." That got a laugh out of the couple, nursing your beer. "Plus, he texted me, saying he was on his way."

Adam gave you a funny look, but didn't say anything. You could make the excuse that it was just Jay trying to get to know you, but you knew that was wrong. He'd figure it out soon enough. The three of you laughed about nothing, shared a few more shots, and had an overall great time until Jay showed up. You could tell he was there when a hand came to rest on your back, turning to look at him with a smile.

"Took you long enough, babe," you said, letting him kiss you before turning back to your friends. Kim had a shit-eating grin, and Adam looked like he was a fish out of water.

It had been Jay's idea to keep it on the down-low, with everything that happened with Erin. You couldn't blame him. When Erin announced she'd be leaving, Voight had been the one to talk to Jay about bringing you up. He knew, though, about the rule of no in-house relationships, and had let Voight know what was going on between the two of you. At first, you though Jay was joking when he'd explained it to you, saying that Voight said it was fine as long as it didn't interfere with your job. Maybe, it had meant that Voight knew you were both good cops, good enough to need to be on his team.

"I knew it!" Kim announced, turning to Adam with a look of triumph. "I knew it! You've just been in a good mood recently, more so than usual and…"

"And Jay and I have been together for almost two years, Kim," you cut her off, her smile dropping with a look of confusion.

"How you been keeping this a secret, man?" Adam asked him as you snuck your hand up the hem of Jay's shirt to rest on the skin of his waist. He gave you a coy smile before answering his friend.

"It wasn't hard. You all thought Erin and I had a thing going on the side. You just had the wrong girl. Erin loves, Y/N," he answered.

"That is true. And she was the only one outside of our families who knew, not counting Mouse, because he's part of Jay's family. Until Voight brought be upstairs," you continued. "Though, I don't know why he's bending the rules for us, though." Jay hadn't been able to answer that question either.

"Again, how have you been keeping this huge secret for two years?" Adam said again, leaning across the table to push against Jay's chest. He couldn't help but laugh, stealing a drink from your beer.

"Its had its days where it's harder, but we leave work at work, and leave our worries at the door, man," Jay tried explaining. "Now, I have an idea."

—-

It had been two weeks of being in Intelligence with Jay. You hadn't gotten any good cases, mostly just helping out overall in the district and getting used to things. The two of you would walk in together and leave together, even if it meant one of you would be waiting a bit longer for the other. You would make each other coffee, throwing wadded up paper at each other, generally flirting. And nobody seemed to notice, and if they did, they didn't say anything.

One morning in particular, you both had a long night, dueling hangovers. You were wearing his leather jacket and a pair of your own sunglasses. Jay was grumbling about you stealing his jacket, that you never thought to bring your own when it started getting cold out.

"At least your ears are warm with that beanie," you reminded him, sitting down at your desk and propping your feet up. He just glared at you, rubbing his arms, trying to heat them up with friction.

"It's not like you haven't hogged the entire coat closet with jackets and coats, Y/N," he countered, you throwing a pen at him.

"What, you crashed at his place last night?" Kevin asked, confused. That got a snort out of Adam. "You know something we don't?" he then asked, turning to the other man. Adam threw his hands up defensively.

"They've been playing us for weeks," Antonio finally chimed in, you letting your sunglasses fall down the bridge of your nose to look at him. "Talked to Gabby last night. Those two," he continued, pointing between the two of you, "have started having a thing." You couldn't help but look at Jay and laugh, him giving you a smile in return. He leaned back in his chair, hands on his stomach.

"Close, but not quite, Antonio," Jay corrected, looking over at Adam, getting a puzzled look from the Antonio.

"Yeah. Y/N is his half-sister," Adam informed the team. You were so glad he was playing along.

"A Halstead sister? But her last name isn't Halstead," he said, seeming to be even more confused now. Tears were streaming down your face as you laughed, standing up.

"Definitely siblings," you agreed, sitting down on Jay's lap, your arm draped around his shoulders. Kevin looked grossed out when you sat on Jay's lap, even more so when you kissed him.

"Jay and I have been dating for two years you guys," you assured them. "Plus, I don't think Will could keep up with a sister, let alone someone as insane as me."

"We've got a case," Voight interrupted, shooting the two of you dagger eyes. That was enough for you to get off Jay's lap, making your way back to your own desk.

—-

"I don't like this," Jay told you as you got changed in the locker room, your back to him. You guys needed someone to go undercover in a strip joint, and unfortunately, you were the only woman on the team.

"I know you don't, but Jay, these girls deserve justice," you reminded him before motioning for him to toss you the shirt sitting on the bench. He did so, you pulling it on. "Plus, it's not like you're not going to be there," you added, turning to face him.

You didn't like the clothes one bit, the shirt too low cut, the skirt to high up on your thighs, and the heels were killing your feet already. But it was worth it if it meant you caught this son of a bitch.

"I look ridiculous," you grumble, trying to pull the skirt down a little bit, but his hands caught your wrists, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You were jealous that he got to get dressed up in a suit, the light blue of the shirt complimenting his eyes. He had the top three buttons undone, getting a glimpse of well chiseled chest.

"You look fine," he assured you. "Plus, I wouldn't mind if you brought that outfit home after this." You couldn't help but roll your eyes, letting him kiss you before you began to apply your makeup.

The case was tough, so far four girls working out of a strip club found dead in the alley behind it just a few nights apart. It had been obvious that they'd been abducted from the club, killed at a secondary location, and then dumped. You hadn't been able to catch whoever was doing it, not sure how he was getting away with it. It had been Al's idea to send someone in, and obviously, that meant you.

"In your dreams, Halstead," you told him, applying the lipstick thick. "Only if Detective Halstead finally shows up to."

You'd been trying to convince him for months to do some roleplay, but he'd always found an excuse not to. You knew part of it was because of the agreement to leave work at work and all worries at the door, but you kept thinking it would be fun. Maybe this was the incentive to get him to agree, by playing stripper as well.

"I'll consider it," he agreed, biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes landed on your ass.

"You two ready to go?" Antonio said, popping his head inside the locker room. "Remember, you still got to follow strip club rules, Halstead. Even if your girl is dancing." Jay jokingly groaned, but you knew there was some truth in it as the two of you walked with Antonio down to the back entrance.

"There's a mic in the necklace," Mouse told you, helping you put the necklace on. It was simple, not too flashy, but hung low enough to accent your assets.

"We'll be listening in the entire time, Y/L/N," Voight reminded you. "Jay's gonna be in there as well, able to listen as well. You remember the code word?"

You nodded, remembering it well. "Jeweler. Though, don't know how I'm gonna slip that into conversation. I'll find a way though." Voight nodded, looking between you and Jay again.

"You guys are gonna have to keep your heads on straight with this one, okay? No going rogue, playing this by the books. No funny business either, okay?" You and Jay both verbally agreed with what Hank was saying before heading out, the team following you.

—-

The music in the club was louder than you'd like it to be, not really into the whole club scene. Especially not strip clubs. As you made your way around the place, trying to pick up somebody, you could see Jay eyeing you occasionally. It wasn't often enough to draw suspicion, but enough to give you some sense of security.

After your third loop, an attractive gentleman put his hand on your arm to get your attention, a charming smile. He had to be no older than mid-thirties, salt-and-pepper hair, dark green eyes. If you weren't madly in love with Jay, you would have thought this man would be a good choice.

"How much for a private dance?" he asked you, voice like gravel.

"Seventy-five," you answered, the man not missing a beat as he pulled out a hundred. You took the money, and gave him a smile. You saw Jay's brow furrow as your eyes met before the man walked with you to the back rooms.

"How long have you been working here?" he asked, loosening his tie as he sat down. "I haven't seen you around before."

"Just a couple weeks. My name's Candy. What's yours?" you asked innocently with a smile, straddling him.

"Justin. I'm sorry to hear about those girls, the ones they found nearby." You couldn't explain it, but you did not have a good feeling about this guy, his hand coming up to play with your necklace. "Where did you get such a beautiful piece?" he then asked as you ground your hips down into his, pretending to enjoy this.

"I just got it back from-" You couldn't get the last word out before his hand was around your throat, cutting off any chance of breathing you had. You grabbed his wrist with both hands, trying to get his hand from around your throat. No noise came out though, wanting to call for help. Your nails dug into the skin of his arm. You tried, you really did, but you could see the edges of your vision getting darker and darker until your world went black.

—

Jay. That was the first name that came to your mind when you finally came to. Your hands were bound above your head, a gag in your mouth. It took a minute to piece together the bits and pieces to remember why you were in this position, how you got there.

You turned your head to each side, trying to see where you were at. It looked like a warehouse of some kind, but more like a long term storage facility. You weren't exactly sure. Either way, it wasn't where you were supposed to be. You were supposed to be closing this case, and going home. With Jay.

You knew as soon as he realized you were gone, he was going to beat himself up over it. He was going to blame himself for not watching you better before directing his anger at Voight or Al since those were the two who thought of this plan.

It was cold, the metal of the table you were tied to. You could feel zip-ties digging into your skin, digging deeper the more you struggled against them. You tried kicking your legs, but you had rope around your ankles. You didn't know what else to do, stuck there, waiting for this psycho to make his next move. Unfortunately, you didn't have to wait long to hear his footsteps approaching. Tears pricked at your eyes, trying to not let them spill over. But you were terrified. You'd seen those girls' bodies, knew the torture they'd endured in just a few short hours. You could only hope that Jay would find you soon.

—-

You couldn't take it anymore, praying for death. If dying meant getting out of the pain, out of this torture, it would be worth it. Justin had taken the gag out of your mouth seemingly hours ago, screams tearing at your throat with every punch, every cut, every single time he touched you.

"Please," you begged. "Please just kill me." You didn't think of the mic that you were still wearing when you begged for him to end it. It didn't matter either way, because you'd given up hope that they'd find you.

—

"How can we not know where she is?" Jay yelled, hand raking through his hair as they went over every detail again. The suit jacket had long been discarded, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up mid-forearm. He knew there should have been a GPS tracker as well, just in case. But at the same time, he'd been determined to protect you. It was his job, as both your partner at work and your boyfriend.

He'd told Mouse to continuously listen to the incoming audio, to let him know if anything changed. It had been hours since you'd disappeared, hours that you could have been dead. He tried to not think of that, tried to hold onto the hope that you would be okay.

"Jay, you might want to hear this," Mouse said from his desk. Jay walked over, putting on the headphones as Mouse rewound the recording.

"Please," you begged, his heart breaking as he heard your strained voice. "Please just kill me." Mouse had told him what was going on, Jay had heard your screams, feeling helpless.

"Dammit!" he yelled, slamming the headphones down on the desk, pacing the length of the bullpen as the others worked diligently to figure out where this guy had you hidden. "Dammit," he muttered, quieter this time, leaning against his desk. It was just that morning that you were sitting in the desk across from his, smiling, laughing. He rubbed his eyes, wiping away the forming tears as Voight called him into his office.

"This isn't your fault, Halstead," Voight tried telling him, but he brushed it off.

"Yes, it is. I shouldn't have let her go back there, I should've followed. I should have realized something was wrong sooner. Y/N is being tortured because I couldn't protect her!" Jay ranted, hands and voice shaking. "I can't lose her, Hank."

Voight didn't have many moments that someone could call him soft, but this was one of them, pulling Jay in and letting him cry. "We're going to get her back," he assured Jay, the younger detective clinging to his Sergeant.

"We've got something!" Adam announced, Jay letting go with a nod and walking back out. "Justin's mom rents a warehouse out in Cicero. The thing is, mom's been dead for fifteen years, since Justin was a kid," he continued.

"Let's go!" Voight told the crew, looking at Jay. As everyone rushed down, he held Jay back for a minute. "We'd all understand if this son of a bitch doesn't walk out of that warehouse tonight."

Jay knew what Voight meant, knew that there would be no limits or restrictions on how they could handle this guy, on how Voight would let him handle it. For the first time in Jay's life, he wanted true, unfiltered revenge.

—

You couldn't breathe, every breath making the fire in your chest grow hotter. He'd stopped his actions for the time being, but you were just waiting for imminent death. You heard footsteps approaching you, squeezing your eyes shut as Justin whistled an unidentifiable tune. You could hear chains rattling together, could barely hear the city outside. It was ironic. Born in Chicago. Killed in Chicago.

"Tell me, Nightingale," he said as he laid the chain across your throat. "You so sure you want to die?"

"Please," was the only word you could manage to get out as he started pulling down on the chain, feeling the air get trapped in your lungs, unable to get more in. You tried to cough, tried to scream, but nothing would work. This was it. And the only thing on your mind was Jay, his smile, his laugh, the memories. He was the best thing in your life. You could only hope he could forgive you.

You couldn't hear much over the sound of blood rushing in your ears, though, you easily recognized the sound of gun fire. The chain fell, allowing you to suck in a deep breath which caused more pain to your chest. Then, a coughing fit before trying to pull free of the zip ties and rope again, not sure what was going on.

"Y/N!" you heard someone yell before hands were on you again.

You couldn't help but scream at the sudden contact, not sure who it was, eyes squeezing closed, head thrashing back and forth. You felt whoever it was untie the rope around your ankles, getting a good kick in as soon as your foot was free. He groaned before cutting your hands free.

"Look at me," he said, voice soft, soothing. You opened your eyes, seeing that it was Jay. As soon as you recognized him, your bottom lip quivered, trying to cover yourself. He didn't say anything as he slipped his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders.

"You're okay," he assured you. "I've got you." That was enough, with everything that had happened to you. You couldn't just put on a brave face, tears streaming down your cheeks as he pulled you into his chest. Sobs wracked through your body, holding onto him like he was the only thing keeping you from going under. Surprisingly, he didn't stroke through your hair or rubbed you back. Instead, he just pressed his forehead to the top of your head, just holding you. This was as much of an ordeal for him, considering he'd thought he'd lost you.

"Jay," Voight said, getting his attention. You didn't turn to look at the Sergeant, keeping a tight hold on Jay. "How do you want to handle this?"

"Let's just get her to Med. I'll meet you at the docks," he said, his grip tightening a little more on you. You didn't know what he meant by that, and you were sure you didn't want to know.

"Intelligence to Main. Roll an ambo to our location for a severely assaulted officer," Kevin said into the radio, getting an affirmative reply.

"You're gonna get checked out at Med with Jay, okay?" Voight told you. You just nodded into Jay's chest, not saying anything. You would have never thought that the feeling of the kevlar vest against you would feel like home, or the smell of the cologne he knew you hated but he loved. Plus, the kevlar gave a barrier. It wasn't that you didn't trust him, but you were scared, terrified, and it gave you a little more security.

"You're safe," Jay assured you again. You heard the ambulance arrive, could tell the medics were waiting for you to let go of him. Your mind blocked it out, though, surely going into shock. You couldn't distinguish what Jay was telling them, or telling you.

They got you on the stretcher, moving you to the ambulance. Jay was right next to you the entire time, holding your hand. However, as soon as the medic touched you to start an IV, you freaked out, throwing punches and screaming. It took Jay and Adam holding you down for them to be able to sedate you. Your own fear was overwhelming, so you didn't notice the tears in Jay's eyes as he restrained you. But, his face was the last thing you saw before drifting off.

—

When you woke up, you were expecting to be back in that warehouse. Instead, you felt blankets on top of you, a pillow behind your head, and the weight of Jay's arms and head on your lap. He was sleeping, probably very uncomfortably. You could see his vest on the couch across the room, which meant he hadn't gone back to the station at all. Had he left at all?

Everything hurt. Every breath still hurt, but not as bad. There was still the fear though. You hadn't known what had happened to the offender, if he was in jail or dead. Remembering what happened was what tipped Jay off that you were awake.

You'd always been under the impression that the brain could block off traumatic events, had hoped you'd never remember what happened. Every ache told you otherwise, flashbacks of what he did to you resting under the surface. You were shaking, hyperventilating, heart rate spiking which set off the monitor.

Jay's head shot up, looking at you with worry. "Hey," he said softly, not touching you. You looked at him, which made you start crying. "You're okay, baby. You're safe."

"Jay," you choked out before dissolving into full fledged sobs. He climbed into the bed with you, holding you. Just like the night before, he didn't rub a hand along your back and comb through your hair. He just held you. You thought it might have been his way of acknowledging what happened. Or maybe, just maybe, in the back of your mind, you thought it could be because he saw you differently.

"Breathe, Y/N. Just breathe," he told you each time you took a breath to continue crying. It was enough for you to take deeper breaths, which helped calm you down. "That's it. Just breathe."

"I'm sorry," you told him as your sobs died down into sniffles. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, you hear me? Nothing. This was not your fault, not by a long shot," he told you. You didn't understand why he could be so forgiving, or to look past the position you'd gotten yourself into.

"I want to go home," you then told him. You didn't know how long they were going to keep you at Med, hoped it wouldn't be long. You just wanted to be at home, in your bed, not giving a care in the world.

"I know. Dr Manning is going to come up and see you. She just wanted you to be awake to check things over. Then, Dr Charles is gonna see you. Then, hopefully you'll go home today." He took a breath, seeming to steady himself before he spoke again. "I thought I lost you."

You couldn't say anything to that, and you didn't. There wasn't a lot you could say at this point, all of it so fresh in your mind, trying to process what had happened.

—-

You'd kicked Jay out of the room when Dr Charles had shown up. He looked hurt, but you hoped he'd eventually understand. It just felt like he was breathing down your throat, and with everything that had happened, you'd decided you needed some kind of space even if it was just talking to Dr Charles alone.

"I know everybody has probably been asking you this," he said, sitting down in the chair Jay had been occupying. "But, how are you feeling?" You rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest so that your hands wouldn't shake.

"I don't know how to describe it," you answered. "Everything hurts. I haven't had the courage to look at the damage he caused. Jay…" You shook your head. "He's been a little overbearing, breathing down my neck all day. He acts like I'm going to break every time he touches me."

"And what do you think? Do you feel like you're going to break if he touches you?" Daniel asked.

You couldn't help it as tears welled in your eyes again, quickly brushing them away. It seemed like he noticed, though he didn't say anything. You were very conflicted with that answer, but you tried to be honest with him. He wasn't going to judge you, you knew that. Jay was a different story. You didn't know if you'd ever be able to tell him how you felt about it.

"I feel…" You took a breath to steady yourself. "I feel like I'm already broken. And that Jay is going to cut himself on those edges."

"What you're telling me, how it's sounding. It's all very normal after experiencing a traumatic event like you did. And those emotions are going to take a long time to figure out, it's not going to be over night. I'm going to sign off on your discharge, but I want you following up with either myself or someone in my office to set up a time to continue this discussion once you settle a little, okay?" You nodded, wiping away more tears. It felt like you just couldn't stop crying. "Do you want me to send Jay in?"

"No… Yes. I-I don't." You just looked up at the ceiling.

"I'll go ahead and send him in. The best advice I have for you right now in this moment is to set boundaries with him. Hell, with everyone. At least until you process and figure out the mess that's in your head." After you nodded, he left the room. It took a few minutes for Jay to come in, figuring Daniel had probably talked to Jay about something.

When Jay did come back in, he didn't say anything as he sat down, seeming to wait for you to start the conversation. Maybe it was something Daniel had said, you weren't sure.

"Dr Charles suggested I make boundaries," you said softly, folding your hands on your lap as you looked over at him. "I love you, Jay, but I...I don't know."

"Whatever it is, I'll understand, and I'll respect it. This doesn't change anything with us." It was nice to hear it, but you didn't really believe it. What if he decided it was too much for him? What if the boundaries you set pushed him too far away? But it was worth a shot.

"When I'm upset, I like that you'll hold me without me having to say anything. Just hold me," you told him, looking down at your hands. "I'll let you know if I don't want it. But when I'm not. I want to initiate contact for a while. If-If you do, because you forget or...or whatever reason, I'll let you know if it's okay." He nodded along, seeming to be really listening to you. "I don't know about sleeping, how to go about that. Maybe I'll sleep in the guest room for a while? But I just...I don't want to be alone in the apartment."

"I'll move some stuff around when we get home," he told you. He didn't seem to sound hurt, seemed very understanding. "I just want to make sure, to clarify. Is it okay if I ask if something is okay? Say, I want to kiss you or hold your hand or whatever it is?" You nodded in agreement, knowing as long as you got some kind of heads up and that it didn't just come out of the blue. "I'll do my best, I'll really try."

"Thank you," you said, reaching your hand out for his. He gave you a sad smile as he obliged with the unspoken request, lacing your fingers together.

—

Jay had brought you home that afternoon, following a couple steps behind you. You didn't understand what you'd done to deserve a guy like Jay, who could be so understanding. You knew he had his own demons though, that he probably understood through those.

It was odd being home. It had only been a couple of days since you'd left for work and hadn't come back. Oh, how things could change in a couple of days. Jay sat down your bag on the kitchen table. The ride home had been quiet, the both of you keeping your hands to yourself. Usually, you'd ride home with his hand on your knee, or your hands entwined at the center console. A part of you had wanted that normalcy, but it felt wrong.

"I'm going to move some of my clothes to the guest room. It's not fair to make you move your stuff," he told you. You just nodded in response, wanting to take a shower. You knew you didn't want Jay anywhere near you when you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time.

The two of you went your separate ways, doing your own things. You had grabbed his Army t-shirt and some of your yoga pants before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You weren't sure how to go about it, so you stripped down and took a shower. When you were done and dried off, you held onto the sink and looking down. The sink drain had twelve holes, which you counted at least a dozen times, trying to get the courage to look into the mirror. Despite feeling the pain of every bruise and ut, seeing it was different.

The chain he'd started to strangle you with had left a dark bruise along the front of your throat. You could vaguely make out the lighter finger-shaped bruises he'd left from the club. Your lips were busted in three different spots, and one eye looked like it was nearly swollen shut. A deep gash ran through your eyebrow, another had stitches along your temple. Your nose was bruised, surprised it wasn't broken. Your eyes continued downward, losing count of how many handprints were left on you, how many cuts he'd tallied into your skin. You ignored the worst of it, the part that you were sure was going to leave an everlasting scar. Across your stomach, he'd carved the word 'whore.' The cuts were deep and inflamed. You were a detective, a well liked, detective who had gone undercover and had come out with the word 'whore' scarred on your body for the world to see. Even if you weren't, even if you had indeed been a worker at that club, it wasn't something you — or anybody else — deserved to have happen.

You didn't realize you were crying again until Jay knocked on the door, asking if you were alright. You didn't say anything in response, throwing on the clothes before unlocking the door. Now you knew how much like shit you actually looked after the whole ordeal.

"Do you want to talk or-" You cut him off, talking being the last thing you wanted to do.

"I'm going to go lay down," you said. "I'll let you know if I need anything."

He nodded in response. You knew you had to do what felt right to help you get through this. So, you got closer to him, almost pressed against him again. He kept his hands at his sides, confused as to what you were doing. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, then stood on your tip-toes and brushing your lips against his. It wasn't a full kiss, barely the ghost of one, but it was enough to show him that this didn't change anything, just like he'd said.

—

Voight had told you to take time off, and you were more than happy to if you were being honest. But in this moment, you were frustrated and bored out of your mind. It had been nearly six weeks, all of your bruises healed up, the cuts scarring over for the most part. You avoided the mirror like the plague, though, but it was something you were working on with Dr Charles.

"It's not like I'm going to go off the deep end, Jay! If I was going to do that, I would have!" The two of you were sitting on the couch, his arm around you.

You'd lessened on your boundaries with him, letting him know if it was a good day or a bad day. If it was bad, then the boundaries were there in full force. If it was a good day, less so. He'd gotten into the habit of making sure you knew he was next to you before touching you, which made it a little better. You still weren't sharing a bed full time, but some nights. It was a process, you both knew that.

"I know, but Voight cares about you. He just wants to make sure you're one-hundred percent before coming back. That's all." You pulled back, glaring at him.

"So, what? I'm not one-hundred percent? You think that Jay, huh?" you asked, angry, getting up off the couch to pace the room.

"That's not...You know what I mean, Y/N," he replied, sitting on the edge of the couch with his elbows on his knees.

"I know what you said, Jay!" You huffed, crossing your arms and looking at him. "Those first few days, it felt like you thought I was going to break. But now! It's been six weeks, Jay! I'm not going to just fall apart at the drop of a hat! You still treat me like I'm fragile and I hate it!" You weren't going to lie, it had been boiling down to this. Dr Charles had told you that you needed to talk to Jay before it reached this point, but you had never found the need to.

"I respect your boundaries, Y/N. I don't think you're going to just break," he tried explaining, but you were upset and a bit irrational.

"Really? Jay, I want my boyfriend back! Not the cop who had to rescue me, because sometimes that's all you seem to act like!" you reminded him.

"You…" He shook his head. "Yeah, Y/N. Sometimes it's hard to turn off the cop part of me, to differentiate the different parts of myself. I remember standing in Voight's office, helpless after hearing you _beg _for Justin to kill you. I remember crying, not sure if we were going to find you in time and blaming myself. So yeah, sometimes it's hard for me to act like your boyfriend when the cop side of me couldn't save you," he told you, voice steady. That was how you knew he was truly upset.

With you, you would yell and your voice would shake and it was obvious you were upset. With him, it was different. It was a stoic face, a firm and steady voice. And he didn't move. He wouldn't talk with his hands like he did when he was calm and relaxed.

He'd never really talked about what happened when it came to finding you, and you'd never thought to ask. Now, though, it made more sense. You'd completely forgotten about the mic in the necklace, not realizing that Jay would have been able to hear every second of your torture.

"Jay, I-" It was his turn to cut you off.

"I didn't tell you for a reason. You were blaming yourself for it when we found you. I wasn't going to add to that. Plus, it wasn't me we needed to focus on getting better. It was you. So yeah, I didn't tell you because there wasn't a reason to. And yeah, it's affected how I act around you some days. I can still hear your screams in my head, even when you're standing right there in front of me smiling. I was afraid that if I let my guard down again, it could happen again. And I've been trying to work on it, I really have," he continued.

You didn't know what to say, feeling like a complete asshole. So, you pushed him back on the couch to straddle him. Then, you did what he'd been doing for you for the past six weeks. You just held him tight.

—-

Voight had agreed to let you come back three weeks later. You had a feeling Jay was the mastermind behind it, thanking him on the drive home from work. It was nice to get back to a normal routine, one step back to being yourself.

—

It had been four months since the attack, and you were ready for a lot of things. One of them was having Jay back in your bedroom with you. It had been few and far between that he had slept in the guest room over the last two of those months, but you were ready for that step. Another was getting rid of set boundaries. Still, he told you to let him know if you were having a bad day and that he'd help in any way he could. Even if that meant giving you space. The third...well, the third was something you'd talked to Dr Charles about, and he urged you to try. Even if it didn't go as far as you were hoping, he wanted you to try.

"Jay?" you asked as the two of you laid in bed. He was reading an online article — you weren't sure what for — and you'd been doing a crossword puzzle. He gave you a hmmm in response, not looking at you. It took a deep breath to build some kind of courage, tossing your puzzle book on the bedside table before taking his phone from him. He looked at you confused as you set the device next to your puzzle book.

"Okay, you have my attention," he assured you with a smile.

"I want to try something." He looked at you puzzled, but didn't say anything, knowing you were going to answer his questions soon. You took that as the go-ahead, moving to straddle his lap with a smile of your own. His hands rested on your thighs, looking at you.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked. You didn't answer with words, instead, it was a rough kiss, your hands running through his hair and holding him close.

The two of you had shared a number of kisses since the incident, though they were always short and sweet, never lasting long. It was typically you that stopped, that pulled away with apologies. So, what you weren't expecting was for Jay to pull back.

"Y/N," he started to say, licking his bottom lip, but you cut him off with another, softer kiss.

"I'm sure, Jay. This isn't a rash thing, or something I haven't thought over a million times." He nodded, kissing you again, pulling you flush against him. The two of you continued this dance for a while, pulling back to kiss down along the skin of his neck.

For you, this wasn't just about the intimacy. It was to show him that you trusted him. As well as showing yourself that you could trust him. He hadn't seen the scars, having only seen glimpses when they first found you. It was you baring yourself to him for the first time all over again.

You pulled back again, pulling off his shirt. He looked at you with desire and love as your hands slid down his chest, feeling the muscles just beneath the surface. When he went to take off your shirt though, your hands grabbed his wrists, stopping him. He looked confused more than anything.

"I just...He caused a lot of permanent scars," you warned Jay. He didn't say anything, just giving you a soft, reassuring smile as he slowly slid your shirt up and over your head, keeping eye contact the entire time.

"Whatever he did, it doesn't change who you are. It doesn't change how I see you," Jay assured you. You couldn't help that your bottom lip quivered, not able to look away from him as his eyes left yours and began looking you over.

One of his hands rested on your thigh, the other traced the scars starting from your collarbone and going down. His touch was light as a feather, but you knew it was there. He didn't trace the word across your stomach, though. You knew he saw it, saw him look at it, a flash of anger in his eyes.

"This isn't true," he told you firmly. "This is far from the truth. You are beautiful, and amazing, and the best thing that has ever happened to me. You're smart, funny, honest. The list could go on and on, but this. You're not this. You're not what he did to you."  
You really didn't know what you'd done to deserve a guy like Jay Halstead. You knew he could go on, would probably ramble if you let him, so you kissed him again. It was less heated than before, but still firm.

It took a few more minutes to progress past this point, but when it did, you couldn't help but be nervous. It had taken you seemingly forever to feel like you weren't broken anymore, to feel whole again. Jay had helped you get to that point, through a lot of pain and frustration and tears. You'd tried to dip your hand down the waistband of his pants, but he'd stopped you.

"We have plenty of time for that," he said. "I just want you."

You'd decided to change positions. Again, to show yourself you trusted him, you lay on your back, pulling him on top of you. It made you nervous for all of three seconds before he kissed you, those nerves and fears washing away quickly.

He took his time, assuring you and reassuring you that the two of you had all the time in the world, that there was no reason to rush this. He turned you into a hot mess, practically begging for more. And he delivered, taking his time, making sure you were okay, which usually just got a 'shut up and kiss me' as a reply.

Afterwards, your head rested on his chest, his fingers running softly along your back. You couldn't help but smile, hearing his heartbeat under you, feeling him breathe. The two of you were slick with sweat, sheets tangled around your ankles and waist.

"I love you," you told him, kissing a trail on his chest with no rhyme or reason before kissing him. "No matter what."

"I love you too. Let's go ahead and sleep. We can talk in the morning." You couldn't agree more.

—-

Some days, it felt like it had all happened yesterday, that you had just been getting ready in the locker room with Jay right behind you. Other days, it seemed like a different lifetime. Most of the time, it was the latter. But this day was different. It had been an entire year.

You'd grown as a person and as a detective in that year. You weren't scared of turning the corner or entering a dark room. You'd been more hesitant at first when it came to being undercover, but Mouse had always made sure to give you something with a GPS tracker, just in case. It made you feel safer.

You'd requested the day off, as well as Jay, Voight not arguing the issue. You figured he probably understood. You didn't want to leave the house, wanted to just spend the entire day curled up in bed with Jay with the occasional pizza delivery. And that's exactly what you did.

He was pressed against your back, holding you close to him. Your hand grabbed his, moving it to the scars on your stomach. They were your constant reminder, though, you'd learned to block them out for the most part. It was as if he knew what you were asking, unable to say it, his calloused fingers tracing the letters.

"You're not what he did to you," he reminded you, whispering it in your ear. You couldn't help but smile a little bit, but not saying anything.

"When I was there. When he was choking me with the chains and I thought I was going to die…" You didn't know if you should even tell him, but you were already halfway there. It was just finding the right words.

"You don't have to tell me," he reminded you. It had been an agreement one of the times he'd come with you to see Dr Charles that he never wanted you to feel obligated to tell him what happened in that warehouse. He could piece enough together to figure it out himself.

"I want to. When I thought I was going to die, it wasn't my life flashing before my eyes. Or maybe it was, just in a different way. The only thing I could think of, that came to mind, was you, Jay," you told him. "I was so upset that I wouldn't be able to be there to tell you it wasn't your fault, because I knew you'd blame yourself. I saw a future we'd never have. I saw your face and your smile and I heard your laugh. And of all the things I could see in those final moments, I was so happy it was you. But...I know you heard me begging to die. I was in so much pain, and I just couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to die when I begged, but when it was happening, all I wanted was to live. I wanted to see you again, so badly, for you to tell me it was all going to be okay." You noticed wetness dripping onto your neck, rolling over to see his eyes rimmed red.

This day wasn't just about you. He suffered that day too. It had just taken you a long time to be able to see that. You'd been so focused on your own pain that you ignored his. You cupped his cheek, not saying anything.

"Mouse had me listen to that audio. He hadn't let me listen to much else, but that moment…" He sniffled. "I'm just glad you're okay, and here with me. I love you."

You didn't know what you would have done without him over the past year. He had really been your rock, your guiding light. You loved Jay Halstead more than life itself, it seemed like, and you would make sure to let him know every day for the rest of your life.


	7. Chapter 7

When Jay told you he enlisted in the Army, you weren't sure if he was joking or just plain insane. In all the years you'd known Jay, since you were practically in diapers, he'd never mentioned an interest in the Army. It wasn't until right after graduation that he brought it up for the first time. The two of you had been having weekly movie night at your place, your parents having gone out for the night.

"I need to tell you something," he said softly when the movie ended. You'd nearly fallen asleep with your head on his shoulder. You didn't turn to look at him, humming in response to get him to go on. "I enlisted in the Army on Wednesday." That more than got your attention.

"Wha-Why?" you asked, looking up at him. He'd promised you he'd stick around Chicago, the two of you considering starting off at a community college.

"I can't stay with him, with him constantly breathing down my neck telling me I'm a disappointment," he answered, knowing he was talking about his dad. "He practically disowned Will for going off to college, and he's been pushing me to apply for the Academy. And I just. I want to be my own person."

"When do you leave?" You honestly didn't want to know, but at the same time, you knew he was telling you this because he needed someone supportive in his life. You'd always been that person for him.

"End of the month, I head to basic for ten weeks, then more depending on my specialty." You couldn't believe it, but it was happening. He was going to be gone for at least four years. Four years without your best friend seemed like an eternity. "I just have to ask you for one favor."

"Anything." You squeezed his hand with a smile. The two of you had been through thick and thin together. He'd stuck his neck out for you so many times, and you'd always done the same. It wasn't anything for you to ask favors of each other.

"It's going to sound crazy, but before you freak or try to get me committed to a psych ward just hear me out."

"I'm not sure if I should be worried or scared, Jay," you commented before he shushed you by putting his hand over your mouth with a smile.

"Right now, my next of kin is my dad. And if anything happened to me, he's the one that would get the payout. I-," he took a breath. "I don't want him to be the first to find out if something happens to me, Y/N. So, will you marry me, just for the legality. You'd be my next of kin, the one to handle my affairs. I trust you more than him, more than anybody."

"You are one crazy man, Jay Halstead," you said as you ran your hand through your Y/H/C hair. It took you a minute to sort through all the responses you could give, but you knew he wouldn't ask this of you unless he was serious. It wasn't a joke. You weren't in kindergarten anymore with a ring pop and promises of forever. You two had been through a lot through the years. He just looked at you with hope in his eyes.

"Okay. Yes," you agreed, a smile breaking out across his face. He pulled you into a hug, and you couldn't help but laugh against his chest. "This has to be the craziest idea you've ever had, Halstead," you added.

"Yeah? Well, at least you put up with my kind of crazy." It was true, you always put up with his crazy. In all the years you'd been friends with him, never did you think you'd marry him.

—-

You hadn't told anybody before going down to the courthouse with Jay, hoping you could find someone in the lobby who would be your witness. You hadn't even told your mother, who you'd tell everything to. The reason you didn't, though, was because you knew she'd say it was a crazy idea. She would have tried to talk you out of it.

You'd never thought you'd find yourself standing in front of a judge in a sundress, Jay in a nice button down and khakis, and a stranger standing next to you after a promise of twenty bucks. Smiling at your best friend, you listened as the judge spoke, your hands in his. This was completely insane, but you couldn't be happier.

The two of you had agreed beforehand that this was just going to be a legality while he was in the Army. He'd repeatedly told you in the two weeks leading up to this moment that you could back out at any time, that you could still date whoever you wanted to date, that a divorce would happen when one of you found the right person. You'd agreed to all those terms for him, knowing you weren't going to back out of this. He was stuck with you, for however long he needed you.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the judge said. You didn't kiss, another agreement between the two of you. Instead, all you could do was smile. The two of you left the courthouse on a sunny day in June, marriage certificate in your hand and simple rings on your fingers.

"Thank you," he said again. He'd been thanking you a lot recently, for a lot of things. This was just one of them. Another was for always being there for him. For always having his back. It seemed like he was just trying to get everything out there before he left for basic training.

"I wouldn't want anybody else to be my first husband," you joked with a smile, "but, you're the one who gets to explain this to my parents."

—-

"You two did what?" your mother practically yelled at you both as you all sat around the kitchen table. You'd asked your mom if it was okay if Jay stayed for dinner, knowing she'd never turn down that request. About halfway through was when Jay broke the news you'd gotten married.

"It's not that big of a deal. Just until he's done in the Army," you tried explaining, but your father raised his hand to silence you.

"Jay Halstead. Please for the love of all that is holy, tell me this another one of your jokes," your dad said firmly, no waver in the tone of his voice. You could tell he was mad.

"This isn't a joke. I'm leaving for basic training next week, and I didn't want Pat listed as my next of kin if something happens to me. Y/N and you both have been more of my family than he ever has, and I wanted to make sure something good could come of it if something does happen." You hated when he talked like that, bringing up the possibility of being killed. At the same time, you knew it was the reason the two of you had gotten married to begin with.

"Guys, you've known Jay his entire life. This isn't high-school sweethearts getting married just for it to end horribly. I married my best friend because he asked me to because he's going off to join the Army. Right now, we aren't expecting this marriage to last more than four years unless he re-enlists," you remind them. Plus, it wasn't going to be an expensive or messy divorce since you knew you wouldn't need lawyers. It was a mutual agreement.

"The two of you are insane!" your mother said again, more exasperated than anything. "But I guess what's done is done. And it's not the craziest thing the two of you have done. That doesn't mean your father and I agree with it though, young lady," she reminds you. It was enough for you.

Telling Pat Halstead was a whole different story.

—-

You were half expecting Pat to yell at either you or Jay. Instead, he locked himself in his bedroom. Jay assured you it was okay, that his father would come around, and told you to go home, that he'd see you in the morning.

He didn't see you in the morning. In fact, you hadn't heard from Jay until nearly ten that next night. He came tapping on your bedroom window. This was how you always snuck him in when your parents were asleep, the first time when you guys were about eight. Now that you were adults, you knew he didn't have to sneak in your window anymore, but old habits die hard.

You'd been in bed, about to fall asleep, so the lights were out. It took him a bit longer than usual to climb in, and you swore you heard him wince. It wasn't normal, not by a long shot.

"Jay," you whispered when you turned on the bedside lamp on your nightstand. It looked like he'd been through Hell and back, a black eye, split lip. He probably had more where you couldn't see. "What happened?"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he answered, taking off his shoes before climbing into your bed. You followed suit, pulling the blankets over you both.

"Do you want to change out of your jeans?" He just shook his head, and you knew it had been a bad night. It wasn't the first time he'd shown up at your house with bruises he'd refuse to talk about, but you knew. You could piece it together enough to understand. It was one of the reasons he'd joined the Army after all.

You didn't say anything else as you repositioned, trying not to jostle him too much. It reminded you of when you were kids, just holding onto each other. There was no difference between boys and girls back then, before the teasing started that you two must like each other. Even into high school, people always thought you were dating. It made any kind of relationship hard. But you and Jay survived, and here you were again.

Usually, he'd be the one holding you. Mostly it was because of the size difference with him being taller. But there were some nights, like that night, that he was the one that needed to be held. You didn't say anything as his arm draped across your waist and held you close. His forehead rested on your chest, your legs tangled with his. The feeling of his jeans against the skin of your legs was uncomfortable, but you refused to say anything, your hands stroking through his hair.

"It's going to be okay," was the only thing you managed to say as he fell asleep in your arms.

—-

The day he left for basic training was one of the hardest days of your life up until that point. He had a packed duffle bag, the clothes on his back, and a wedding band still on his finger. And, he had you next to his side. You'd driven him all the way to O'Hare, having borrowed your dad's car for the drive. Your parents had been warming up to the idea of why you agreed to Jay's insane plan, but it was going to take them a while to get there completely.

The drive to the airport had been silent except for the radio. Usually, you both would have been singing along, but this was a more somber day, not really feeling in the mood for the usual karaoke. You'd parked the car in the parking garage and walked with Jay to check in. Now, he was about to get in the TSA line.

"You're going to write me the second you can," you told him, not giving him a choice. "And you're going to call me when you can. And you're going to stay safe, okay?" You knew basic wasn't going to kill him, but you worried, tears stinging the back of your eyes.

"I promise," he assured you, dropping his duffle bag to hug you tight. Your hands held onto his shirt tight, not wanting to let go.

"I'm going to miss you, Jay." You'd never gone a day without seeing him or talking to him, so this was going to be a big change.

"I'm going to miss you too, Y/N," he agreed, kissing the top of your head before pulling back. "You stay safe here, okay. I'm not gonna be here to bail you out of trouble when it comes knocking." That was enough for you to smile, watching him walk away into security.

—-

Jay had made it through basic training. You'd been there for his graduation, and then he was sent off to his next assignment, which had been Army Ranger School at Fort Benning in Georgia. He'd told you he'd been excelling.

You thought him leaving for basic was the hardest day of your life. That all changed the day he called you to tell you he was being deployed to Afghanistan. You cried on the phone, making him promise repeatedly that he'd come home.

After that, the days turned into weeks that you wouldn't hear from him. Sometimes it was for months at a time, for nearly two years. You'd moved out on your own, getting a small apartment, and every day you were home, you were praying that nobody would knock on the door to tell you he'd died. When those letters did come in from him, you were relieved yet so worried. He told you of some of the things he saw, the things he did, how much he missed his best friend and how he couldn't wait to come back.

It was hard to focus sometimes, but you'd gotten your degree, getting a job as a teacher in a local public school. You knew the end of the four years was coming up soon, and you were just hoping he'd make it home.

—-

He'd called you to tell you he was heading home, opting out of reenlisting at the end of the tour. You were waiting impatiently at baggage claim at O'Hare, about to jump out of your own skin at the slightest of things. Four years. It had been four years without him in Chicago.

Your eyes scanned the crowd, regularly checking the incoming flights, just waiting for him. And then you saw him. With as excited as you were, you weren't expecting your heart to drop. He looked different. There were bags under his eyes, the sparkle in his eyes duller. It looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You didn't let any of that stop you. As soon as you saw him, you ran over to him. He dropped his duffle, catching you in his arms as you slammed into him, nearly knocking both of you off your feet. Neither of you said anything as you held onto each other, trying to hold back your emotions. There would be plenty of time for that later, you knew.

"Let's go home," you finally said after what seemed like hours, pulling back from him. You'd agreed to let him stay with you until he figured out his next step. He just nodded, letting you lead him out to the car with his hand in yours.

The two of you didn't say anything as you drove to your place. His hands were planted firmly on his own knees, staring out of the windshield. He looked nervous, but he didn't say anything and you didn't ask. It made your heart jump, though, to see the ring you'd put on his finger four years ago still there.

"Jay, we're here," you said, softly, wanting to pull him out of his thoughts as you parked the car. "What are you feeling for dinner? We can order in, or I can make something."

"I'm not really hungry," he answered. Even the tone of his voice was different.

"You've got to eat," you reminded him. "That chinese place you really like still delivers. I'll get your usual order." He knew you wouldn't take no for an answer, nodding in response. That was good enough for you as you took him upstairs to your place.

"It isn't huge, but you can have the spare room." You weren't sure what to say with everything that was going on, remembering the box of letters. You knew it wasn't the whole story, but you understood some of the things he saw while over there. "But my door is always open if you need me. Any time. Bathroom is right over there," you continued, pointing to the closed door. "Your room is right there, and mine is across the hall."

"I'm gonna take a shower," he said, not waiting for a response before tossing his bag in his room, then stepping across the hall, his uniform already starting to come off.

You weren't sure what to expect now that he was back. You'd both changed in the past four years, and you felt like you might have to get to know him all over again. It was a scary idea that he might not be the same Jay that you let walk away at O'Hare. You could hear the shower turn on, grabbing your phone to go ahead and make the food order.

When he came out again, you saw him walk across the hall with only a towel around his waist. He was more well defined since you last saw him, skin a bit bronzer, more freckles scattered across broad shoulders. You had to quickly pull yourself out of those thoughts.

You'd been in a couple relationships since he left, but they'd ended mutually. Your mind had always been elsewhere, worried about him. It wasn't that you had feelings for him, because you couldn't. It wasn't allowed! He was your best friend, nothing more. But there were some nights that you would never admit happened that you dreamed it was. Now, he was back.

Finally, you heard his door open and he joined you on the couch. You'd already sat a beer on the coffee table for him, nursing your own. You didn't even know if he liked beer. He groaned as he sat down, propping his feet up on the table, leaning his head on your shoulder.

"I missed you," he told you, which caused you to smile. There was no way to help it, your hand resting on his forearm.

"I missed you too, Jay."

The two of you talked for hours, late into the night and early in the morning until he was dozing off. You'd convinced him to eat when the food came, and it was as if the man hadn't eaten in his entire life, which got you an apology.

"We should head to bed," you finally said when you finally looked up at the clock on the wall. Somehow, the two of you had managed to talk until four in the morning. It felt like no time had passed at all.

"Yeah," he agreed, getting up then offering you a hand to help you up. The two of you walked to where the doors met, and you couldn't help but hug him tight again.

"Goodnight, Jay," you finally said when you let go, Jay mumbling a 'night' in response before you went in your room, shutting the door behind you.

You knew it hadn't been too long since you'd fallen asleep when you were woken by the sound of screaming coming from Jay's room. It scared you, not sure what was going on when you jumped out of bed and rushed into his room. He was in bed, drenched in sweat, thrashing. It looked like he was in some kind of nightmare.

"Jay!" you said, trying to get him to wake up by shaking his shoulder. You definitely weren't expecting him to grab you roughly, throwing you on the bed and pinning you down. "Jay!" you said again, much firmer.

It took him a minute to come to, fear in his eyes as he looked at you. It seemed to get worse when he realized the position he put you in, quickly backing off with apologies one after the other coming from his lips and tears in his eyes. You didn't understand at that time what had happened, scared. Later you'd learn and understand it was PTSD.

"It's okay," you assured him, "I'm fine." Though you knew you weren't, that your wrists would most likely bruise from his grip.

He backed up until his back hit the wall, sliding down with his knees pulled to his chest. He didn't make a sound, though, his arms wrapped around his legs and his forehead resting on his knees. It took you a minute to get up, not sure if you should approach him or not. You threw caution out the window, knowing it was Jay. Slowly, you got up and walked over to him, kneeling beside him. You didn't say anything as you wrapped your arms around him, holding him. One hand stroked through his hair. It took him a few more minutes to begin to lean into you, but when he did, you knew it would be okay in the end.

—-

You'd managed to get him back to bed, promising him you'd stay with him throughout the night. A part of you prayed he didn't have another nightmare, not sure what would happen if he did. Luckily, he didn't. When you woke up, it was to an empty bed which was confusing. You didn't hear any movement from the living room or bathroom, and when you checked, he wasn't there.

You took the opportunity to get changed. Despite it being August in Chicago, you opted for a thin, long-sleeve shirt to hide the beginnings of the bruises on your wrists before starting to cook breakfast. You could only hope he'd show up soon, which he did.

"Breakfast is almost ready," you told him when you heard the door shut. Glancing over your shoulder, you saw he was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, looking like he'd just gotten back from a run. You made sure to pull your sleeves down a little more as he passed by, a smile on your face. He didn't say anything or acknowledge you as he shut himself in the bathroom again.

You were glad you'd taken a few days off work to spend time with him, but at the same time, it felt like he was starting to shut you out after the events from last night. You tried to refocus on your attention back on finishing up breakfast, setting the plates down on the table and pouring him a cup of coffee before getting yourself a cup of orange juice. You then sat down, waiting for Jay, hands resting on your lap.

It didn't take long for him to come out in khakis and an Army t-shirt, sitting down across from you. He didn't say anything as he began to eat, slowly. He didn't even look up at you. You tried to understand the fact that he was wrestling with his own demons, but you couldn't ignore the fact that it hurt.

"We need to talk," you told him when he'd nearly finished eating. You'd managed to just push your food around, not really eating it.

"What's there to talk about?" he countered, voice distant and cold. You'd never heard Jay talk like that, never. A chill ran down your spine.

"Last night. What happened?" You could still remember the bruising grip around your wrists, how his eyes looked through you, stuck somewhere else that wasn't Chicago.

"Just a bad dream." He stood up, grabbing the plates and taking them to the kitchen. You waited a minute to follow, leaning against the counter and watching him.

"No, Jay. It was more than just a bad dream. A bad dream doesn't end with me getting pinned to the bed," you reminded him, absentmindedly rubbing your wrist. He noticed though, and you could see a myriad of thoughts running through his head all at once. You saw his jaw clench and release a few times, the dishes long forgotten.

"I dream I'm back there sometimes, Y/N," he told you. "That's all it is." You decided not to push it, letting it go for now. His eyes were still locked in your wrist though. A shaking hand reached out, pushing your sleeve up just enough to show the bottom of the bruising. Clear as day was the shape of fingers on your skin.

"It's not your fault," you assure him, but he wasn't listening. You could tell by the way he pulled back and turned away from you. The thing you weren't expecting was for him to walk out of the apartment without looking back.

—-

The bruises had faded, but the tension between you and Jay had not. It had been almost a month since he'd come back. Things hadn't gotten better though, he hadn't made progress. In fact, you were more worried about him than you had been. He'd come home drunk, would sleep all the time. It wasn't until a friend of his showed up, knocking on the door in the middle of the night.

"Can I help you?" you asked the man, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm looking for Jay Halstead. I'm a friend from the Army. Greg. Greg Gerwitz. But everyone calls me Mouse," he said quickly, as if you were going to cut him off at any moment.

"Look, Gr-" He gave you a look. "Mouse. Jay's not in a good place right now, I don't know." You shook your head, not wanting Jay's friend to see him in this kind of shape.

"That's why I'm here. He called and left a message for me. I was over there with him. I know what's going on," he assured you, so you let him in before making your way to Jay's room with Mouse trailing behind. You didn't knock, just letting yourself in.

Jay was on his side, eyes open and staring at the wall. The blanket was draped across his torso and legs, one foot hanging out. He hadn't shaved in a few days, beard beginning to become noticeable. You hadn't realized he'd developed dark circles around his eyes.

"I'll leave you two to talk," you told the pair when Mouse sat next to Jay, your friend looking up at his own. You wished it could be you that was able to pull him out of whatever abyss he'd fallen into, but you knew you shouldn't let your pride get in the way. If Mouse could bring Jay back, you weren't going to stand in his way.

—-

It had taken time, but Jay seemed to be his old self again. The nightmares seemed to happen less and less often. He was talking to you again, weekly movie night on Fridays just like when you were kids. He was getting back on track, and you couldn't be more grateful to Mouse. It was a surprise to see him come around less often, but Jay assured you he was fine.

"So, I applied to the CPD Academy," he told you as the two of you ate lunch. He'd shown up at the school you worked, bearing the gifts of pizza.

"Oh, really? That'll be good for you." You didn't bring up the fact that his father had wanted him to apply to the Academy after graduation, that maybe he was following Pat's plan for him. The difference was that you knew he was choosing this on his own and wasn't being pushed towards it.

"You think?" he asked, the light in his eyes shining bright. You missed it, missed him. You couldn't help but reach across the desk, resting your hand on top of his. He gave you a bright smile.

"You're gonna be a great cop, Jay," you assured him. "I've been thinking a lot about the marriage," you added.

"Yeah? What about it?" he asked as he took another bite of pizza. He'd been home for over six months now, and he didn't seem to plan on reenlisting in the Army.

"Well, you're not planning on reenlisting. I didn't know if you wanted to keep it up since you're going into the CPD or if you wanted to go ahead and get divorced." Ultimately you were going to let the choice be up to him. You weren't in a relationship, weren't looking at getting married any time soon, so it didn't phase you one way or the other.

It was odd for your taxes and employment paperwork putting married. It may have been true, but sometimes you had to catch yourself. You'd stopped wearing your ring on your finger when he got back, not seeing the need to. Though, you wore it on a chain around your neck.

"It doesn't matter to me. I mean, our taxes are better if we stay married. Plus, the same thing goes with CPD. I'd rather you be my next of kin instead of Pat." That was a good enough answer for you, not bringing it up again. Instead, the two of you fell into casual conversation until the bell rang, signaling that your students would be coming back.

"I'll see you at home," he told you, helping you clean up. You gave him a hug and kissed his cheek as a few of your students trickled in.

"I get to choose the movie tonight, Jay!" you called after him as he left, arms crossed over your chest with a smile. You could hear him laugh from just outside your room, and you couldn't help but do the same.

"Is that your boyfriend, Ms. Y/L/N?" one of your students asked. It was one of the great parts about teaching six year olds.

"He's my best friend," you answered, ignoring the churning in your stomach. Boyfriend. You were sure that ship sailed a long time ago, if even existed in the first place.

—-

The day he graduated from the academy, you couldn't have been prouder. Where he started when he got home a year ago to this point, he'd made leaps and bounds, not just strides. He'd worked his ass off for six months in the academy, a lot of late nights that you'd fall asleep on the couch and him studying.

Seeing him in his uniform was another site. It seemed like yesterday, you saw him at O'Hare in his Army uniform looking tired and defeated. Now, he looked proud, a smile on his face when his eyes met yours. You remembered wondering if that light would ever come back to his eyes, and in that moment, you saw it in full force. His cheeks were fuller, the dark circles gone from around his eyes. He looked happy and healthy.

You'd worn your ring this day, to keep up appearances. When you met up with him, he brought you in for a tight hug before someone walked over, clearing their throat.

"Sergeant," he said, standing up tall, formal.

"Officer Halstead," the woman said before shaking your hand. "This must be the lucky lady. I'm Sergeant Platt."

"It's nice to meet you, Sergeant Platt," you said with a smile. "Hopefully Jay didn't give you too much trouble in his time in the Academy."

"Not going to lie. He's one of the best I've seen roll through in a long time. He's going placed. But I should warn you to keep an eye on him. A lot of the girls were eyeing him." You gave Jay an 'oh really' look, not helping the giggle bubbling at your lips.

"I'm not too worried, Sergeant," you assured the woman before she gave you a smile and walked away. You looked at Jay again. "Let's go celebrate."

—-

You knew Jay would be getting home late, but you were surprised that he actually came in the next morning looking like complete shit. There was no doubting that something had happened on his shift that shook him.

"You wanna talk about it?" you asked him, taking his bag from him so he could take off his shoes.

"You remember Allie Corson?" he asked. It was hard to forget Allie Corson considering she was the first person Jay loved, and she'd broken his heart. You nodded, following Jay to the kitchen where he pulled out a beer. It looked like he was barely keeping it together.

"Ben." He shut the door of the fridge, hands shaking, dropping the bottle, shattering on the floor. He was trying to keep the tears back. "Ben was murdered, Y/N."

Your breath caught in the back of your throat. Allie was such a sweet person, and you'd hung out with her and Jay enough to know how nice of a boy Ben was. He was the one who wrapped his arms around you, face in the crook of your neck as he cried, holding the fabric of your shirt in tight fists.

You didn't ask any questions, letting him get it all out before taking him to his room. It was a Saturday, so you had nowhere to be. When he let you go, you saw red rimmed eyes, Jay sniffling.

"Have you gotten any sleep?" you asked him, pulling his shirt up and over his head. He shook his head 'no' in response, and you just nodded. Your hands then worked at his belt, getting it undone before popping the button of his jeans and pushing them down to leave him in just his boxers. This was the first time you'd ever done anything like this with him, but you knew he was exhausted and upset and would fall asleep in his street clothes if you let him. It seemed instinctual as he pulled your t-shirt off, leaving you in your tank top, then pushing your jeans down.

"What-" You didn't know what was going through his head, where his mind was even at as he tried to find the words that he wanted to say. "What did I do to have someone as amazing as you in my life?"

"You were just you, Jay," you answered, pulling him to the bed. You laid down first, getting situated as he joined you. Your hair was fanned out across the pillow, your eyes meeting his as he laid down with you.

He moved closer, though, his arms didn't pull you close and it looked like he wasn't going to. Instead, he just looked at you.

"Do I have something on my face?" you asked him softly, not sure why he was looking at you like that. He shook his head, propping himself up on one elbow as the other hand came to stroke long your cheek down to your jaw. It felt like you couldn't breathe, anticipating what he was going to do next.

You weren't expecting a firm grip on your jaw before his lips were against yours. It took you by surprise, there was no doubt about that. He'd been your friend for your entire life, your best friend for most of it. This wasn't supposed to happen, but it was, and you were conflicted. Had you wanted this? Yes. You'd wanted Jay as much as you wanted to breathe. But the timing wasn't right. Ben had just died, and you felt like this was his way of pushing that grief to the side and not dealing with it. His lips were intoxicating though, moving with him.

He pressed against you, one hand at the nape of his neck, the other holding onto his bicep. There was urgency and need, nipping at his bottom lip. He pulled away from lips, trailing down to your jaw and neck. Your nails dug into his skin.

"Jay," you said, out of breath, not sure if this should be happening. He didn't respond though, focused on what he was doing, which was making you want him more and more. "Jay," you said a little firmer, getting his attention. He looked at you, lips red and a little swollen, pupils blown with desire.

"You okay?" he asked softly, thumb sliding across your bottom lip. You nodded dumbly as you caught your breath.

"We shouldn't. We can't," you told him, seeing confusion take over his expressions. "Just. Now is not the right time, Jay. Ben...I don't…" He pulled back, letting you sit up. You grabbed his hand, getting his attention back on you. "I don't want you doing this because you're upset, okay?"

He nodded, seeming to understand. You hoped he did at least. He laid back on the bed, and you decided to go ahead and rest your head on his chest. His arm was loose around you, but still traced unrecognizable patterns on your side.

You felt his hand stop, his fingers resting on your tank top, breathing even and regular. When you glanced up, you saw that he was asleep. Sighing, you put your head back down. Maybe you were in love with him. And that idea terrified you.

—-

Neither of you spoke about that night, but there was definitely tension between the two of you now. Though, neither of you mentioned it. He'd skirt behind you in the kitchen, hand barely resting on your back. Or you'd be walking down the street, hand brushing against his. Maybe it was fear, maybe it was some pride, you weren't sure.

He was obsessed though, with trying to pin the guy who killed Ben. He was adamant that it was a neighbor, Lonnie Rodiger. The issue was that he had no proof to back it up, just a gut instinct. After Ben, his nightmares came back. From the sounds of it, it was a mix between Afghanistan and Ben, a luck of the draw each night. You'd just wished there was more you could do for him. He'd assure you that you being there was enough for him, all he could ask for.

—-

The day he brought a girl back to the apartment after a night out, you thought your heart was going to shatter, if it hadn't already. You'd been grading papers at the kitchen table when he stumbled in, the sound of a girl laughing piercing the silence of the apartment. You looked over, you saw a mess of blonde hair and tan skin. The air got stuck in the back of your throat, seeing her all over him.

"Y/N," he said with a smile, his hands already sliding up the back of her shirt. "This is…" He looked over at her, chewing on his bottom lip, seeming to be drunk enough to not remember her name.

"Melissa," she answered for him, undoing his belt.

"Yeah! This is Melissa. Melissa, this is Y/N. She's gonna stay the night," he added, not giving you a chance to answer before picking her up and carrying her to his room. You'd grabbed your headphones, putting on some music to drown them out.

He'd suggested you went out with him that night, but you were behind on grading. Plus, the bars and clubs weren't really your scene. You'd done that when you'd turned twenty-one and then for the next year while he was gone. But, you knew he'd missed out on it since he was in the Army. You couldn't help but think it would have been you in his bedroom that night if you'd agreed. Your heart was definitely broken.

—

Jay had taken the Detective's exam, not telling you until after the fact. He'd passed, obviously, on the first try, coming home excited with a smile on his face, and telling you he'd gotten a spot in the Gang Unit. You tried to be happy, but over the past year, the two of you had really drifted apart. Your traditions had dropped off one by one, until you seemed to be nothing more than roommates.

"I'm happy for you, Jay," you told him with a smile, not looking up from the papers. It was another year, another group of students, and even more work it seemed like.

Later that night, he'd put a cup of tea in front of you, seeing as you hadn't moved from your spot nearly all day. You noticed he took a seat across from you, a cup of coffee in his hands for himself. He just sat there for a while longer, quiet. That was until he cleared his throat, bringing you to look up at him.

"What happened to us?" he asked softly. You didn't know how to answer that. There were just a million things that had happened, both big and small, that factored into your current situation. "We used to be so close, Y/N. Now, we barely talk."

"Jay," you said, almost exasperated, running a hand over your face before your elbows were planted on the table and your head rested in your hands.

"Come on. Where did we go wrong?" he added. You leaned back in your chair, looking at him.

You could still remember the day he came back home. He looked like he was ready to give up, a sunken face. Now, freckles were dotted across pink cheeks and the bridge of his nose. All his wounds had scared over. His muscles were more defined, his shirts fitting better. His style had also improved, wearing Hensleys and flannels with v-necks. He'd really grown into himself. And it felt like he'd left you behind.

"The day you came home after Ben Corson died," you told him, looking down, not able to look at him. "We never talked about what happened, and I don't know...I think that's where it started." You could hear him sigh before taking a drink of coffee.

"Then, you just...We didn't talk about it, Jay," you said again, looking at him again. "And then you paraded girl after girl through here. It hurt."

"Like you didn't date that guy, Richard or whoever, the science teacher?" he reminded you. That was different. You'd actually dated Richard for six months, it wasn't that you paraded a laundry list of guys each night.

"That was a serious relationship, and I had dated him for three months before bringing him around. You parade girls through here that you meet at the bar each night," you retorted, trying to keep a calm voice. "We're both at fault for not talking about it, letting it get to this point." He nodded, knowing you were right.

"Yeah. I want to fix us," he said after a minute of mutual silence.

"I just...I want more than just a friendship Jay. That night. If you hadn't been upset, if Ben hadn't just died, I wouldn't have stopped you. At the same time, I don't know if it was just because you were upset that you even kissed me," you answered. Jay sighed, making it seem like he didn't want that. You were worried that you had just ruined your friendship.

"I was upset that night, Y/N. But it wasn't because I was upset that I kissed you. I mean, part of it was. I don't want to ruin what we have though. The girls, yeah, I know I've been bringing a lot through, but I thought you stopped me because you didn't want it," he told you.

"I want to try, Jay. Do you? If we both agree to try, and it doesn't work, we can try to go back to what we had."

"Okay," he agreed. That was enough for you to flash him a smile. "I'm off tomorrow, so, I'm taking out out on a date."

You guys knew nearly everything about each other, so this seemed more like a formality. But it meant that he was trying, that he was being honest about wanting to try. It made you happy that things might get back on track with things between the two of you, and maybe even better.

—-

The next afternoon, you'd gotten home from work, exhausted. Who knew six year olds could wear you out so much? You plopped down on the couch with a groan, kicking off your shoes, and propping your feet up.

"Long day?" Jay asked, kissing the top of your head as he made his way around the couch to sit next to you.

"Parents are more of a pain in my ass than the kids are," you answered. You weren't expecting him to lean forward and pull your feet onto his lap, massaging each foot. It felt nice, your eyes slipping shut with a soft moan. He knew exactly what he was doing it seemed, making all the tension in your feet disappear pretty fast. "Where did you learn this?"

"The internet," Jay answered, which got a laugh from you.

"Well, the internet has taught you well, Young Padawan. So, what did you have in mind for this date?" You opened one eye, seeing him smile and shake his head.

"I made a reservation at the best place in town," he answered, not specifying it anymore.

"And where's that?" You were wondering if he'd give you an answer, and it seemed like he was.

"I might have gone grocery shopping to cook. And I just want you to relax, go take a bubble bath, and get dressed. Doesn't have to be anything fancy. Everything will be ready in a couple hours." He was the best, and you knew he knew that fact.

You didn't want to move from your spot on the couch, but he insisted, sending you on your way to take that bath and unwind. When you opened the cabinet, you saw he bought you a new bottle of bubble bath, With Jay, he always did the small things for you, things that you might not have even noticed over the years, or that you'd just chalked up to him being a good friend. This made your heart swell, though, knowing it came from a place of true caring, if not love.

You took your time, smelling whatever he was cooking. It smelled delicious, and you couldn't wait to eat it. When the bath started to get cold was when you got out, drying off before heading to your bedroom. Jay wasn't paying attention, focusing solely on cooking. He looked hot, sleeves pushed up, foot tapping along to whatever song was playing on the radio.

With Jay, you didn't feel like you had to worry about what you wore. With Richard, it felt like you had to impress him. Jay'd seen you in everything from your prom dress down to your underwear, though. You knew he didn't care, and honestly, neither did you. So, you put on jeans and one of your college t-shirts. Your hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

"Smells good," you told him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, pressing yourself against his back. You felt him tense up in the moment you did it, and then immediately relax again.

"Good, because it's going to taste even better," he assured you.

"With all these promises, it better be the best thing I've ever had," you teased back, which got a laugh from him.

Eventually, you let him go, helping him finish cooking. It was pretty easy, mostly just washing the dishes as they came. It was domestic, the two of you having fallen into a routine two years ago when he moved in.

You sat at the table, Jay sitting across from you as the two of you ate. It was mostly small talk, catching each other up on your weeks, a little bit from the past year where you'd started to drift apart. It was nice, familiar. Occasionally, his foot would brush against yours, or he'd reach across the table to hold your hand. It was hard not to blush, so you did more often than not. He was sweet, but you knew that already. He was still Jay Halstead afterall.

When the two of you finished dinner, you'd moved to the couch. The hockey game was playing, but you were more focused on him than the game. He'd glance over at you occasionally with a smile, giving you quick kisses. It wasn't until after the game was done that you knew you had his undivided attention. Not that you couldn't have gotten it sooner if you'd wanted.

"I'm going to go to bed," you told him, getting up.

"I had a good time," he told you, not moving to get up.

"Who said the night was over?" He raised an eyebrow as you smirked, walking to the bedroom. You could hear him get up, following close behind. You weren't sure how far this was going to go, but it didn't matter as long as you were with Jay.

As soon as you got through the bedroom door, you turned around to face him, just a couple steps behind you. You could see the smile on his face as he closed the distance, a broad hand on your lower back pulling you close as the other rested on the back of your neck. He didn't kiss you, just smiling at you, so you took the first step, crashing your lips against his. He was just as intoxicating as the first time, your lips moving together like a perfected dance.

He pressed you against the wall, one of your legs hooking around his leg. Your hands were all over him, wherever you could reach. Eventually, you opted to scratch your fingernails along his lower back. In response, he gave a soft moan, giving you more than enough opportunity to slip your tongue past his lips, which he welcomed gracefully.

Your hands pushed his shirt up, Jay pulling back just far enough to get the fabric off before he did the same to you. He leaned back in, lips against yours again as his hand spread across your ribs, thumb teasing your nipple. Shivers ran down your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin.

Finally, you pushed against him, moving him to the bed. His knees hit the bed first, falling back and pulling you down on top of him. Your lips found his again with no hesitation before kissing along his jaw, his stubble gently scratching your face. You didn't care, had always liked him with a beard. Down further your lips went, sucking a hickey at the junction of his shoulder and neck. When you glanced up, you saw his head fall back on the bed, eyes closed. His hands grabbed your ass, giving a firm squeeze.

You'd never thought it was possible to want someone this badly, no way there was a way to want someone more. You'd also never thought you'd be in this position with Jay, yet here you were, lips traveling lower, nipping at his exposed skin occasionally before reaching his jeans. You pulled back to undo his belt, hands fumbling out of a mix of nerves and need. When you began pulling his jeans down, you grabbed his boxers as well, wanting nothing between you. He propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with parted lips.

You took no time in getting his pants off, discarding them somewhere in the room, not sure where they landed. Then, you were at the foot of the bed, kissing his thighs. He didn't say anything as your eyes met again before taking him in your mouth. It was salty, but not overpowering. There was no hesitation as you began bobbing your head, hand helping please him.

That first moan you got from him had to be the best thing you'd ever heard in your life. It was needy and raw, making you eager to make sure he felt good. Quickly, his hand tangled in your hair. You couldn't help but look up at him through your eyelashes, seeing the look of pure ecstasy on his face. He looked like a mess, but he was your mess.

"Y/N," he moaned. You could feel his abdomen tightening under your hand. "I'm...I c…" He couldn't get a full sentence out, but you knew he was close just by how he was acting. You got him right to the edge before pulling back, hand finishing him off so that way you could see him. His head fell back, lips parted just enough that sound could escape. His cheeks were rosy, chest heaving as he moaned, his load spilling over your hand.

"Holy shit," he managed to say as he came down from that high. You grabbed one of your shirts off the floor, cleaning him up. Yet, you knew the night was far from over as he looked at you with unadulterated lust. You squealed as he grabbed you, reversing your positions and getting you on your back. You couldn't help but smile.

His lips were on yours again, his hands roaming the exposed skin of your chest and abdomen. One hand teased your nipple as the other undid the button on your jeans, slipping a hand down the waistband to cup your center, the heel of his hand pressing into all the right spots. You couldn't help but moan into his mouth.

"Need you," you sighed, nails digging into his biceps as he moved the heel of his hand in small circles on you.

It wasn't enough, you needed more. You sighed as he moved his mouth further down your body, relishing in how he made you feel. Your hands slid through his hair, scratching against his scalp with closed eyes. After pulling your jeans off, he spread your legs slightly, enough to dip his head down between them. You pried your eyes open, watching him. It was pure sin, watching him between your legs. You could feel his tongue on you, unable to hold back your own moans. Your back arched off the bed, fingers digging into whatever you could reach, let it be his hair, shoulders, or the mattress itself. When you reached that peak, you couldn't even tell him what your own name was, between the mess that was your brain, and the moans coming off your lips.

His lips were on yours again quickly, your leg hooking around his waist. "Condom," he mumbled against your lips. Thankfully he had his head screwed on right, unlike yours.

"Top drawer," you answered, protesting with a whine when he pulled away to grab one. You'd never noticed the way his muscles moved just under the surface, how toned he actually was. You couldn't keep your hands off him, sliding along his arms, shoulders, side, wherever you could reach really. When he came back to you, he was smiling.

"Jay," you said softly, cupping his cheek. Had you asked yourself six years ago when you were barely eighteen if you'd seen yourself in this spot with Jay, you would have told yourself you were crazy. Yet, here you were, happier than ever. You didn't realize he'd slipped the condom on until he was pressing against you. He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes locked as he slowly pushed in.

It was a change, and he was slow as you adjusted, hissing slightly at the intrusion. When he started rocking his hips though. You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips before you kissed him. He started off slow, small grunts and moans coming from him, but nothing loud or too out there.

That was until you were practically begging for more, "Harder. Faster," escaping your lips like prayer. His moans and sighs were more frequent, louder, occasionally mixing with your own. You held onto him for dear life, raking your nails down the skin of his arms and back. Occasionally, he'd capture your lips with his, too much teeth, but always much needed.

If you were being honest, nobody had ever made you feel this good. Maybe it was partly because of who it was, never nervous around Jay. He just made you feel relaxed. The other part was most likely because it had been a while, and with tensions high, your nerves were ready to light up at the slightest of touch.

You could tell he was getting close by the falter of his hips, how his hand held onto your hip a little tighter. When he finally reached that point, it was a couple more thrusts of his hips and a deep moan as he buried himself in you. Your hands stroked through his hair, panting as you tried to catch your breath.

He moved off you, discarding the condom in the trash next to your nightstand before laying on his back. Your arm draped over his abdomen, head resting on his chest. The blankets were tangled around your legs, and you reached down to pull them up over you both. Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, your own heart pounding in your ears as you tried to catch your breath again. He was the first one that spoke.

"Wow," was all he had to say, which you agreed with. Who would think that twenty three years of friendship would lead to this point. It definitely wasn't you.

"Yeah," you agreed, looking up at him with a smile. This was something you wouldn't mind doing with him again. Plus, you knew you had all night.

—-

You and Jay had fallen into a nice, normal routine. The spare room was now a shared office, and you liked that it gave you more space to grade and to have a quiet place to work. He still made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. You understood what his job was, that there would be late nights and early mornings. What you weren't expecting was an undercover operation.

"What does that mean exactly?" you asked him, looking over at him. He'd suggested you sit down when he told you this news, glad you did.

"I'm gonna be gone for a while. They're giving me a whole new identity, backstory, everything. Just until we catch this guy," he explained. You didn't know if you wanted to hear more.

"When do you leave?" He took his eyes off you, hand running over his face with a sigh.

"In the morning." You nodded, knowing neither of you had a choice in this. Instead, you just reached over, taking his hand in yours.

"And they'll call me?" You had to ask. It was the last thing you wanted to happen, but the first thing on your mind. He just nodded, which made you sigh. This was why you guys were still married even though your romantic relationship had just barely begun.

"How long?" you followed up. You had so many questions, yet, you were unsure how much you wanted to actually know.

"I don't know. A few days, maybe a few weeks? I've heard of people going undercover for months or years at a time," he answered. Months to years… You didn't think you'd be able to deal with him being gone for months or years. Considering you'd gone four years without seeing him, and those were some difficult times.

"I need you to promise me something," you finally said after a couple minutes of silence between the two of you. You looked at him with intent, not going to take no for an answer.

"Anything." You moved closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you close against his side.

"You're going to come home. Safe. I swear, there's a single scratch on you when you walk through that door," you warned, your voice unwavering. He couldn't help but smile at you.

"I promise."

You knew you wouldn't hear from him while he was undercover, and if by chance you saw him, you weren't to say anything or even acknowledge him in any way, shape, or form. The rules existed to protect him. You weren't expecting to see him, though. He knew your routine, your usual spots, and would avoid them to keep you both safe.

Your phone rang in the middle of class a month and a half in, your students 'oooh'-ing with interest. You felt your stomach drop, heart pounding as you stepped into the hall to answer the call.

"Y/N Y/L/N," you said. "Who am I speaking to?"

"This is Sergeant Thomas with the CPD. I'm calling to inform you that your husband, Detective Jay Halstead, is currently being treated at Chicago Med for injuries he sustained while undercover," he told you. If it hadn't been for the fact you were so in shock, you would have dropped the phone.

You hung up, knocking on the classroom door next to yours. Julia answered with a smile, hushing her students in the background.

"I have a family emergency. Can you watch the kids while I go down to the office?" Of course she agreed, the two of you having gotten along great since you started working there.

As soon as you were able to, you were on your way to Med, mind racing as to everything that could have happened to him. You'd made him promise he'd come home, without a single scratch. Now, he was at Med.

You ran from your car to the ED waiting room, Jay's name falling off your lips before you even stopped at the desk. An officer came out, ushering you back. You had a million questions, yet you didn't know what to ask the woman. You just hoped Jay had all the answers. The officer left you at the door to the ED room. You had to take a deep breath before you brought yourself to walk in.

You were expecting a few bruises, for him to greet you with a smile and an assurance that he was okay. You weren't expecting for his leg to be in a cast and propped up on a pillow. A bandage covered his neck right above his collarbone, bruising just above that. His arm was in a sling, secured tightly to his chest. An IV was running medicines and fluids that you didn't know what they were for in through his good arm. Even then, that "good arm" looked horribly bruised. You didn't want to imagine what it looked like under the gown, his breaths shallow and seeming to be strained. Plus, his face was a mix of black, purple, and blue, barely able to see a patch of pale skin.

You didn't say anything, tears stinging your eyes as you sat down next to him in the chair provided. He seemed to be asleep, or unconscious. You weren't sure what the difference was.

"Mrs. Halstead?" a man asked as he stepped into the room. "I'm your husband's doctor, Dr Lanik."

"Yes," you answered, shaking his hand, but not standing up. "What-?" He handed you a box of tissues as tears dripped down your face.

"Your husband was brought in after being severely beaten. He's suffered a broken tibia and fibula which are the bones of the lower leg. His shoulder was dislocated, a broken wrist on the same side. A couple of broken ribs. He has a severe concussion, luckily. With the amount of trauma to his head, we were expecting a brain bleed. He had a deep cut to the base of his throat that required fifteen stitches. He has some minor internal bleeding we expect to resolve on its own. We have him on pain meds. I want to keep him over night, at a minimum to keep an eye on any possible brain swelling as well as the bleeding," Dr Lanik explained to you. As the list of his injuries grew longer, the more upset you got.

"He served overseas," you told Lanik, holding Jay's good hand, not taking your eyes off his bruised and battered face. "I didn't see him for four years after we got married, and I was just waiting for that knock on the door. Each day, I prayed I wouldn't, that God would bring him home safe. He came home different, but he came home. And then he joined the CPD, and I thought I wouldn't have to worry as much. I mean, how dangerous is Chicago compared to Afghanistan?" You let out a dry laugh, not sure why you let yourself get comfortable with the idea. "I was nervous, obviously, but not as scared as I was when he called to tell me he was being shipped out. I made him promise me he'd come home safe."

The doctor sat down in the chair across from you, setting his paperwork down. "How long have you two been married?" he asked. It seemed like he was trying to make you feel better.

"God, since we were eighteen. Six years this June. We weren't even in love when we got married," you admitted to the doctor. "He'd been my best friend my entire life, and he wanted to make sure someone he trusted would be the one to find out if he died. I mean, six years ago, tensions were high. We graduated in 2002, and the Army was accepting anybody and everybody to go fight in the war. When he came back, it was hard on both of us, but we got through it. Eventually, we started to fall in love, but it took us a long time."

"Well, it sounds like he has an amazing person next to him, to agree to do that for him. He's going to need you even more now as he gets better," he reminded you.

"Was he out when he came in, or…"

"We had to sedate him. He was very agitated, really didn't know what was going on," he answered, looking confused as to why you asked.

"He has PTSD from when he was deployed. He doesn't...he never told me what happened over there, not in detail. When he came home, it was bad for a long time. He fell into a hole that I didn't know if we were going to ever be able to get him out of. I just. I don't want this to be a setback for him," you explained, Lanik nodding in understanding.

"If you want, I can have one of our psychiatrists come in when he wakes up, just to get a feel of things?" You agreed with a nod, Lanik standing up and putting his hand on your shoulder again. "He's probably going to be out for a while. Do you want a cup of coffee or something?"

"Coffee sounds great," you agreed before he left the room, a promise of a hot cup of coffee before the door shut. You squeezed Jay's hand gently. "Dammit, Jay," you mumbled, a hand running over your face. This was not how this was supposed to go, not by a long shot.

You heard him groan, the eye that wasn't completely swollen shut fluttering open as much as it possibly could considering the amount of damage done. Your head shot up from the bed, looking at him and squeezing his hand again.

"Jay," you said softly, his head lolling to the side to look at you. He gave you a small, tired smile, looking barely awake. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty."

"Hey," he managed to say, sounding like he had a mouth full of cotton. With how swollen his cheeks were, it looked like it too.

"You scared me," you admitted, bringing his hand up, kissing his knuckles. "When I got the call, I didn't know what to expect. All they told me was that you were at Med being treated for injuries sustained undercover. I thought I made you promise to come home without a scratch."

"I'm sorry," he told you, his fingers tightening on your hand. "I was doing good too, until today."

"What happened?" you asked, needing to know. He just sighed, like he did when you asked about Afghanistan early on. You knew he didn't want to talk about it, but you weren't taking no for an answer. Not this time. "Talk to me, Jay. Don't shut me out this time." You didn't mean for it to sound so harsh, but you knew that's how he took it.

"I didn't shut you out, Y/N," he told you.

"Jay, that's not what I meant." The damage was done, but he just sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

"It was going good. They had just started to trust me. I went by Ryan, that was until a familiar face showed up. You remember Mouse, right?" he asked. Of course you remembered Mouse. He was the one that got Jay out of the pit. "Well, apparently, Mouse has hit rock bottom. And hard. He's not doing good. But he recognized me, didn't realize I was a cop, or undercover. Completely blew my cover. He's the one that managed to call an ambulance and get my sorry ass here, but he bounced."

"When did you last talk to him?" you asked, curious. You weren't going to ask him about the attack itself, the aftermath more than able to fill in the blanks in your imagination. Not that you wanted to imagine Jay getting beaten to a pulp.

"Right after I graduated from the academy. I didn't realize it was bad for him. He helped me, was there for me, and I didn't do the same for him," he answered, cheeks wet from tears that managed to slip out.

"Jay, look at me," you said softly. He didn't though, kept looking at the ceiling. "Look at me," you said again, a little more forceful, but it was enough for him to listen. "What Mouse is doing, what he's gotten himself into, it isn't your fault. None of this is your fault. What you can do. Are you listening?" He nodded his head. "What you can do is get yourself back in his life and help him. You can still be there for him, it's not too late."

"What if it is?" he asked you. "What if everything we went through over there was for nothing?" He wasn't talking about his undercover assignment now, no. He was talking about Afghanistan. "We pulled each other through those trenches, dragging each other at points, for what?"

"Baby, it was for something. You fought for this country, bravely I might add, because it was the right thing to do. We were seventeen when 9/11 happened, we watched it happen, and then you went and did what so many others were terrified to do. Both you and Mouse. And I owe him everything for bringing you back home, and then helping you out of that Hell that was in your mind. It's never too late to help him, okay? I'll be there too," you assured him. He nodded again, and you hoped he believed you.

Unfortunately, you were unable to take Jay to the apartment when he was discharged. Your building was old, six steps up to the front door. Since Jay had both a broken wrist and a broken leg, he couldn't use crutches, having to use a wheelchair for the time being. Which meant that you couldn't get him up the stairs, especially by yourself. That was how the two of you found yourselves staying with your parents until one of the breaks was fully healed. The doctors were saying he'd be lucky if his wrist was fully healed in eight weeks.

"I don't know how to thank you guys," Jay told your parents as you helped them get the spare room together.

"Anything for our girl, and you too, of course, Jay," your mother assured him with a smile, gently grabbing his face and kissing his cheek. "And we're so glad to see you back. I wish you'd visited sooner."

"So do I, Mrs. Y/L/N," he replied, which got him a small smack on his good arm.

"How many times do I have to tell you, call me Y/M/N." He chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Especially since you and my daughter are still married after...How long has it been honey?" she asked your dad.

"Six years?" he said, getting a nod from you. "Even though, you said it probably wouldn't last longer than four."

"Well, I mean with Jay and I being an actual couple now, and with how crazy our schedules are, and with his job, we haven't found a reason to get divorced," you reminded them, helping Jay up and out of the wheelchair, pivoting to the couch. You got a pillow under his leg despite his protests that he was fine. "You got beaten to a pulp, so you have to deal with me doting on you. And when I'm at work, my mom will make sure to do the same."

"I already promised Y/N/N that I would. Plus, you're looking kind of skinny Jay. Is my daughter not feeding you enough," Y/M/N told him, Jay pleading with you with his eyes. You put your hands up defensively, knowing it was out of your hands.

It was a long eight weeks, but as soon as he was clear to use crutches, he was booking it out the door to go home. The swelling of his face had gotten better, most of the bruising gone, and whatever was left had turned an ugly yellow. You knew he was just happy to be in his own bed again, with you by his side, with no parents around. It was limited what you could do because of his legs and the stitches still in his neck, but you made it work. That first night home was the first time he told you he loved you, and there was no doubt in your mind that he meant it.

Over the years, you'd made sure to tell him you loved him every morning before one of you left for work, and to tell him every night before bed, even if it was a text or a phone call because he was pulling a late night. A lot had changed over the next five years, yet, a lot was the same. You were still happily teaching six year olds. Jay was still happily putting his neck out there to keep the people of Chicago safe. You still worried. He still had bad nights.

You'd moved though, having decided a new apartment with a new start would be good for the both of you. Sure, the old apartment had it's good memories, but it also had some of the really bad ones. Plus, it was closer to your parents in Canaryville. Sure, the commute was a little rougher, but it was worth it. Sometimes your parents would ask when the two of you planned on having children, not worried about living in sin - still being devout Catholics - since you two were still technically married. You'd always just brush them off with a laugh, knowing you weren't ready for that. You never asked Jay if he was though.

It had become normal, about once a year, for Jay to go undercover. The first time after the incident, it had been tough on you. It had only lasted a couple of weeks, but you were sure you were going to get another phone call, but that he'd been dead. When he came home, without a scratch on him, you were relieved, letting him hold you all night.

So, when he went undercover this time, you were less worried. Yes, you still worried, and that would never stop. But he was smart, had picked up many tips and tricks over five years. He usually kept you in the dark when it came to what the case was, but this time was different. You weren't sure why, but he told you all about it. Maybe it was just another milestone in your relationship, you weren't sure. It didn't matter though, as long as he was safe.

It had been five years since you'd gotten that phone call that he'd been taken to Med. So, when your phone rang at three o'clock in the morning, you were worried. A little less so when you saw that it was Jay calling you.

"Hey, baby," you said groggily, just wanting to go back to bed. You could hear chatter in the background. "You on your way home?"

"Not quite," he answered, which got your attention. "They're sending me to Med to get checked out."

"Why?" you asked, enough of a shock to your system to wake you up, instinctively starting to get dressed.

"I got shot." Your blood ran cold.

"You couldn't think to lead with that, Jay!" you told him, worried and frustrated. He'd gotten shot, and acted like he was just reading you the weather. "I'm on my way to Med, and don't you dare try to talk me out of it Jay Halstead."

"Okay," he agreed before you hung up. The drive down to Med, you were mumbling to yourself the entire time. You weren't sure what you were going to say to him, or if you were just going to slap some sense into him since it seemed like he had none.

"I'm here for Detective Jay Halstead," you told the ED desk, getting led back to his room, getting an odd sense of deja vu. This time you were less panicked at least.

Your jaw clenched as you walked in the room, arms crossed over your chest. His shirt was off, a bandage patched on the front and back of his shoulder and his arm in a sling. You could still make out the blood stains on his skin from where he bled.

"You got shot." It wasn't a question, a firm statement. He sighed, head falling back on the bed before lifting it up to look at you again. The more you looked at him, the more you noticed, like some bruising on his stomach and a busted lip. Nowhere near as bad as the first time, except for the fact that he'd gotten shot.

"I wasn't trying to get shot," he reminded you as you sat down. "I was just protecting a civilian."

"I know how dangerous your job can be, knew it was always a possibility. But you've been a cop for what? Seven years? Not to mention, serving in Afghanistan. And this was the first time you got shot," you reminded him as he reached out his good hand to caress your cheek. You couldn't help but lean into his touch.

"I'd say that's a pretty good track record," he joked, getting you to smile. "You know how I keep talking about the Intelligence Unit I want to get into?" You nodded, brows furrowing, not sure where this was leading. "Well, one of the owners of the bar, her brother, Antonio Dawson, just switched to the unit. They're looking for another Detective, and he's putting in a good word for me."

"It's because you got shot, isn't it?" you asked with a smile, getting a nod and a laugh back. "Well, despite how mad I am at you, I'm happy for you, baby. You're gonna do great. After you're done with your medical leave, because you're taking time off. For my own sanity." He knew there wasn't any arguing with you.

You brought him home a few hours later after the scans came back clear that it was a through-and-through. You were relieved, but still so upset about the situation. Neither of you said anything on the drive home, the radio wasn't even turned on for once. There'd only been one other time in your life that you could remember a car ride being so quiet, and that was the day you drove him to O'Hare all those years ago.

You followed him inside, tossing your jacket on the couch. With a sigh, he turned around to look at you. Eyes scanned his face, seeing how different he looked. You could still remember being kids, chasing after each other in the school yard. Now, he was a man. Your hand came up, resting on his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

"I'm sorry," he told you softly, eyes not moving off yours. You could get lost in the ocean that was his eyes.

"No. No, you have nothing to be sorry for," you assured him. "I overreacted a little." You knew you had every right to be upset, but you'd directed your anger at him, as if he was the one that pulled the trigger on himself.

"Can we just go to bed?" he asked softly. His day had probably taken a lot out of him, was probably exhausted. You nodded, taking his hand and leading him back to the bedroom. What you weren't expecting was his lips on yours, soft and slow. He was in no rush. It caught you by surprise before you relaxed into it.

You were the first one to pull away, helping him out of the scrub shirt the hospital had given him, trying to be as gentle as possible. He still hissed when you tried to maneuver the bad arm, whispering apologies. Once his shirt was off, your hands were gentle, ghosting around the bandaging. You could feel how hot the skin still was, didn't even want to imagine what it looked like underneath the bandage. He stood there, looking at you as you touched him, not saying anything.

"I'm just glad you're safe," you told him softly before pulling your own shirt off. His eyes broke away from yours, trailing down your now exposed skin. It didn't take long before your lips were against his again, moving slowly, softly. There was no rush. In fact, you wanted to take your time because you could have lost him that night. You had a basic understanding of anatomy. If the bullet had hit just a couple inches further to the right, you might be planning a funeral.

You made sure to avoid grabbing onto his bad shoulder, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he already was. Your right hand, instead, rested on the back of his neck, your left on his good shoulder. His free arm looped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. As much as you wanted this, wanted him...you pushed it out of your mind. He wouldn't talk about it, and you knew it.

The next time you pulled away was to get his pants off, making quick work of his jeans. Unfortunately, do to being down one hand, he was limited on his movement. So, as soon as his pants were off, you slid your own down. You didn't notice he'd pushed his boxers down with his good hand, a small smile on your face as he stood there in all his glory.

"On the bed, Halstead," you told him, Jay quickly following directions. As he got himself situated and comfortable, his back against the headboard, you grabbed a condom out of the top drawer. You grabbed an extra pillow. "Lean forward," you told him, sliding it behind his back. It was the small things sometimes, plus, you knew the headboard would be uncomfortable against his shoulder.

There wasn't any foreplay aside from heated kisses before you ripped open the condom and slid it down his length, getting a soft moan from him. You couldn't keep your eyes off him, though. Especially as you positioned yourself above him before sliding down slowly. You took your time with him. The sounds you got from him sending heat low, adding to your arousal. You gave yourself leverage using the headboard rather than his shoulders, lips rarely coming off his.

When your lips did come off his, you whispered assurances and praise and love. And when you both fell over the edge, it wasn't like the first time. The first time all those years ago, it was unadulterated need and desire. This was love and adoration and fear seeped through that you almost lost him. You could have easily lost him.

"I love you," you told him softly, fingers combing through his hair, forehead pressed against his. "I love you so much." You just sat on his lap, neither of you moving away from each other. His hand traced along your side, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"I love you too," he told you. It took awhile for you to move off him, but when you did, it was to only lay down next to him. The two of you held each other, your head on his chest as fingers played with your hair.

"Jay," you said softly, not looking at him. He hummed in response. "I-" You didn't know how to ask. "Why don't you ever talk about what happened over there?"

"It's been eight years since I got back?" he asked, as if his math would be wrong, though it wasn't. "Some days, it feels like a lifetime ago. Other days…" You knew what the other days were. Anniversaries of some sort, though he'd never given you further explanation for any of them. Some of them, he locked himself away both physically and mentally. Others...It was hard to explain. All of them affected him one way or another though. "Telling you would make it more real, and I'm scared of how you'll see me if I told you what I did over there."

You knew that was absurd, but to him, that was his reality. It took a minute to figure out how to tell him that.

"I'd never push you to tell me, and maybe you never will. I'm okay with that. But if you ever do, no matter how big or small, I'm still going to love you. You're still gonna be Jay, okay?" you said, turning your head to look up at him. He nodded, a small smile as he kissed you again.

It had been a long time since Jay had a nightmare bad enough to wake you up, not since Ben Corson. Even then, he still had nightmares. You were able to tell when he held you a little tighter at night, or you'd wake up with him gone long before reasonable hours. That was until that night. You heard him whimpering, skin slick with sweat that wasn't from previous activities. Usually, he didn't move in his sleep, but you could feel his legs weakly moving against yours. It was enough to wake you up.

"Jay," you said softly. When you pulled back, you saw his brow furrowed, a look of pain on his face. "Jay, baby."

You had propped yourself up on your elbow, cautious when you put your hand on his good shoulder, gently shaking him. His eyes shot open, pushing himself away from you quickly, fear in his eyes.

"It's just me," you assured him, staying where you were at. You didn't move towards him, but you also didn't move away. You had no reason to be scared of him. "It's just me."

"Y/N," he mumbled, his face pale. He moved back towards you, and you accepted him with open arms. There had been plenty of times before, knowing how to handle his nightmares. Usually, he'd just brush it off and tell you he was fine. But there were times, like this one, where he didn't say anything for a while, just listening to your heartbeat and hearing you breathe for a while.

"I did get shot once before," he finally said, not sure how long it had been. "In Afghanistan." You never noticed a scar, confused. "We were taking heavy fire. Mouse was there. Bullet hit me in the side. I thought I was done for, but he saved me. It healed pretty well considering, but it still happened. I still know it happened. I tried to...to not put myself back there today. I wouldn't have called you, would have just come home and told you about it. But I needed you. You are my rock." It took him a while to get through the story, giving you more detail of how he begged to not be shipped home, that he'd be fine. Your comment at the hospital weighing on your mind, about how this was the first time he'd got shot in all these years. He'd smiled, laughed, agreed with you. And this was just under the surface.

"Where?" you asked, wanting to know how you overlooked something like that. He sighed, sitting up. It was on his right side, your fingers tracing down from his shoulder blade to the spot you'd managed to overlook for the eight years he'd been home. It was barely raised, white camouflaging on already pale skin. One mark. One simple mark.

You wondered if the wound on his shoulder would look the same way, barely noticeable. Or would it be more raised, scaring pink rather than white. You both laid back down, duvet over the top of you. And you wondered if it would ever be completely alright.

The three weeks he'd taken off were spent relaxing for the most part. A lot of date nights, and lunches in your classroom. It was nice, normal. Familiar. When he was cleared to work again, he was so excited, and you couldn't help but be excited for him.

You'd decided to surprise him at work a month after his transfer. It was enough time for him to settle in. You weren't expecting to see Sergeant Platt at the desk at the district.

"Y/N," she said with a rare smile. "What brings you down here?"

"Here to see Jay, Sergeant," you answered with a bag of food in your hand.

"Trudy, please," she corrected. An officer close by looked confused, so you assumed many people didn't get to call her by her first name. "So, you're still putting up with Officer Chuckles, huh?"

"It's Detective Chuckles now." She smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"I'll buzz you up. Up the stairs, to the right past the gate. I'm glad he's still got you. He's a good kid." You weren't going to disagree with that, following the simple directions.

You were expecting more bustle, not six people seeming to be doing nothing at their desks. Nobody noticed you at first, letting yourself lean against the wall leading into the bullpen. That was, until somebody piped up that they smelled food.

"That would be me," you said, smiling as Jay looked up.

"Y/N! How long have you been standing there?" he asked, getting up with a bright smile and walking over.

"For a cop, you're so unobservant sometimes, babe." You couldn't help but joke with him. "Parent-teacher conferences finished up early today, so I thought I'd surprise you. I brought enough for everyone." Not gonna lie, you were wanting to make a good impression on the team.

"Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. And these are the guys...and Erin." They all chimed in greetings as you sat the food bags down, making sure to set aside yours and Jay's before it became a free-for-all.

"Girlfriend, huh?" A younger guy asked. "I'm Adam." You shook his hand.

"Yup. We've been together what? Six years?" you asked Jay. It was hard to keep track sometimes.

"Seven," he corrected, getting a nod from you before he kissed you. "Thanks for lunch."

"Any time," you assured him. You grabbed your food and he brought an extra chair up to his desk. "You didn't tell me Trudy was the desk Sergeant."

"Trudy?" he asked, though he knew who you were talking about. "I didn't think to mention it. I didn't even think she'd recognize you since you haven't seen her since my academy graduation."

"Well she did. Is she the only one who knows about…" He cut you off with a nod.

"I mean, my paperwork says it, but nobody ever looks at that unless they have to." You knew that was true, so you weren't worried.

You tuned out the rest of the team, focusing on Jay. The two of you talked about an upcoming weekend trip to his cabin in Wisconsin. You'd always been invited as a kid, but your parents were never comfortable with it.

"Hey, Jay," Erin said as she came to stand beside him, hand on his shoulder. You couldn't help but feel jealous, especially considering he didn't pull away from it. Instead looking up at her. "We got a tip we need to go check out."

He nodded, looking at you with some sadness and a lot of apology. "Go," you said with a forced smile. "I'll see you later." He gave you a kiss, grabbing the rest of his food to go.

"Y/N," you heard someone say as soon as Jay left, voice gruff. You turned to see a man standing in the doorway of an office. "Can I speak to you for a moment?" Adam gave you a funny look, but you weren't sure what it was for.

"Of course." You stood up, walking into his office. He shut the door behind you before motioning for you to take a seat.

"I'm Sergeant Voight. Look, it's none of my business, but I can't have Jay distracted okay?" he told you, which confused you.

"Jay had mentioned others significant others bringing lunch, I didn't mean to distract anybody," you answered, thinking that maybe you'd overstepped a boundary.

"It's usually someone's husband or wife, not their girlfriend. Not to mention, I don't need you showing up here, and then Jay's wife coming around." Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Again, what he does on his off time isn't my business. But what happens here is."

"Look, Sergeant. You've got this wrong." He didn't let you explain as he walked to the door to open it, so you just blurted it out. "I _am _his wife, Sergeant." That got him to stop, turning to look at you again.

You sighed, not sure if Jay would be okay with you having this conversation. But here you were.

"Care to explain?" He asked.

"Jay and I have been best friends our entire life. We got married at eighteen right before he left for the Army, and then we just never got a divorce. It was for legality, seeing as he doesn't get along with his family very well and he trusted me," you explained. "So, you don't have to worry about a jealous wife coming around and running into a girlfriend. Since our marriage was out of convenience, we don't see ourselves as married off of paper. And I know Jay would appreciate if this didn't get around." Voight nodded, trying to comprehend what you just told him.

"Does anybody outside of your families know?" he asked.

"Trudy Platt met me at Jay's Academy graduation. She knows we're married, but she's never known that it was purely for being on paper. She's just thought we've always been together. But that's it. You and her," you answered.

"Okay." He nodded again. "I apologize if I offended you in any way."

"No need, Sergeant. I need to head out anyway," you told him, standing up. He shook your hand before walking out with you.

"I had an interesting conversation with Voight after you left today," you told Jay as the two of you walked home from a local pub you'd had dinner at, walking hand in hand. He looked over at you with obvious confusion.

"What did he say?" he asked.

"He told me that he didn't need you to be distracted. Or risk a jealous wife showing up and seeing his girlfriend there," you answered with a laugh, which caused him to look like he was about to go into a full blown panic. "Jay, I explained it to him. He knows minimal details, but enough. He's not going to say anything," you assured him, his face relaxing. "You shouldn't worry too much. Might start getting wrinkles." He gently bumped into you with a smile.

"Have you thought about what it would be like if we were actually married?" he asked softly as you turned the corner, seeing the apartment at the end of the block.

"We're actually married, Jay," you reminded him. "Or do I need to pull out the marriage certificate to remind you?"

"I meant...Have you ever thought about getting married again? With an actual ceremony. Because you love me?" he elaborated.

You sighed. Of course you'd thought about it, all the time. You'd been together for seven years. Honestly, the only thing the two of you didn't really do was introduce each other as a spouse, and you didn't wear your wedding rings unless you had to for appearances. That rarely happened though.

"I don't need a ceremony, Jay," you answered. "But have I thought about what it would be like for it to not be for appearances or paper? Of course. Being with you is all I could ask for though, and you've been giving me that for the last seven years. Though, my parents would probably love the idea. I don't need it. Unless you want to." He just shrugged, and you knew the conversation was being put on the backburner.

"Before I forget to mention it, Will is coming back to town to visit in a couple months. I told him he could crash with us," Jay told you. You weren't sure how you felt about that. You hadn't heard from Will since graduation. He hadn't reached out after Jajy joined the Army, or when he was deployed, or when he got back.

"Okay," you agreed, against your better judgement. You weren't sure if this was a good idea, didn't want Will to drag Jay back into Pat's life. But, Jay would make his own decisions, and it was your job to be his support system. Whether they be good decisions or not.

The first thing that tipped you off that something was off was the fact Jay's car was parked outside when you got home. He had told you that he was expecting it to be a normal day, so you weren't expecting him home until dinner. The second thing that tipped you off was the smell of liquor wafting through the apartment. The third was Jay sitting on the couch, photos spread across the coffee table. A quick glance showed you they were pictures of Lonnie Rodiger.

"What's going on?" you asked him, getting a grumbled response. "Use your words." He glared at you with cold eyes, something you hadn't seen in a long time. You didn't sit next to him, opted to stay standing. "Talk to me, Jay."

"Lonnie Rodiger is dead," he told you. It was a conflict of emotions, considering you believed Jay when he said Lonnie killed Ben Corson. Sure, the man was a monster and deserved punishment, but you felt bad that you were glad he was dead.

"And that's not a good thing?" You didn't understand what had Jay on edge, why he wasn't happy that Ben's murderer couldn't hurt anyone else.

"They think I killed him, Y/N." Your blood ran cold, not sure how to react. The fact he wasn't sitting in a jail cell seemed like a good sign. It meant that they didn't have enough evidence to charge him.

You knew Ben's birthday had just passed. He would have been fifteen. Something in Jay had snapped, and he'd become obsessed with figuring out a way to put Lonnie behind bars. You hadn't said anything about it, figured he'd work it out of his system.

"Did you?" you asked. You couldn't help it, plus you weren't going to judge if he did.

"You too?" he asked defensively.

"I have to ask, Jay. Especially considering you have a restraining order from the Rodiger family. I've stood by your side this entire time, not doubting you for one second that Lonnie killed Ben. But it's suspicious. Yet, I'd believe you if you said you didn't kill him. Because I trust you," you reminded him. He leaned back, with a sigh, signalling you to sit next to him.

"I didn't kill him," he told you as he looked over.

"Okay. Then find out who did. Badge or no badge, you're the one who can figure this out." He kissed your temple before going back to the pictures and the police reports. You sat up with him all night, going into work the next day, hoping you didn't get a collect call from Cook County Jail that they'd found a way to pin it on him.

When you came home, no pictures or police reports were scattered on any surfaces. Jay was fast asleep on the couch, looking like he hadn't slept in a year. You figured it was a good sign, covering him with the quilt on the back of the couch and kissing his head. He didn't stir, but looked peaceful.

"Will!" you announced excitedly, hugging him tightly as soon as he stepped foot in the door. As much as you didn't like the idea of him staying with you guys, you couldn't help but be excited. You hadn't seen him in years.

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Jay asked with a smirk, earning him a light smack on the chest.

"So, what brings you back to Chicago, Will?" you asked him, needing to know, your curiosity killing you. "Thought you were some fancy plastic surgeon in New York." The three of you sat around the table. Since Will's flight had gotten in late, you'd made dinner so it would be waiting when they got home.

"A job offer, actually. Chicago Med was looking for ED docs, and I actually missed my baby brother." You could understand that. "So, no worries. I'll be looking for my own place soon."

"Did you tell him, Jay?" you asked, getting a glare in response. "He's gonna find out soon enough."

"Tell me what?" Will looked between the two of you. You'd made Jay promise he'd tell his brother about the marriage, and about their relationship, but it seemed like he hadn't yet.

"Y/N and I have been dating for seven years," he told Will, who just laughed. You looked at him, confused by his reaction.

"You're joking, right?" Will asked, looking between the two of you. His smile dropped though when neither of you were laughing. "You're not joking. Why didn't you tell me sooner, like, I don't know… Seven years ago!"

"Well, Will. There's more," you added before he started going off the deep end prematurely. He looked between the two of you again, confusion and surprise obvious.

"We've been married for thirteen years," Jay added. Will looked like he was doing some mental math in his head.

"You two are definitely fucking with me," he said as he came to the conclusion. It would make sense. He hadn't seen his brother since his high school graduation, so it would make sense Jay would try to prank him. You were prepared though, sliding a piece of paper across the table to Will before he said anything else. As he read, his brow furrowed, hand raking through his hair.

"You got married thirteen years ago," he said, flabbergasted. "And you didn't tell me. Why did you even-?" It was obvious that Will had a lot of questions.

"Jay didn't want Pat listed as his next of kin when he joined the Army, and with you in New York away at college, it seemed like the best thing to do," you told him, knowing Jay didn't know what to say by the look on his face. Of course he didn't want to explain it to his big brother, and that was probably why he waited until dinner to have you help break the news. "Then, it was the same with the CPD. And I'm happy I agreed, because Jay is the best thing in my life. He always has been, for our entire lives."

"I don't...I don't know what to say," Will said, handing you the marriage certificate back before putting his napkin on the table. "Dinner was good. I'm gonna." He stood up. "I'm gonna stay at a hotel."

"Will, come on," Jay told him, standing up a split second after Will. "You don't have to go."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," he said, grabbing his bag.

You wondered if he'd end up at Pat's, since he didn't live too far away. Or maybe, he was actually going to get a hotel. You weren't sure, but whatever he did, you didn't care. All you cared about was the broken heart look on Jay's face. He didn't say anything as the door shut behind Will, just gathering the plates in silence. His hands shook, jaw clenched.

"He'll come around," you assured him, but he shook his head.

"I'm not so sure." His voice shook, putting the plates in the sink. He didn't scrape them or wash them, holding onto the edge of the sink, looking defeated. Your arms wrapped around his middle, head resting on his back. You didn't say anything, knowing there was nothing you could say that would make him feel better about any of it.

"I'm sorry," was the only thing you could manage to say. You felt bad for pushing him to tell Will, but you didn't want to keep it from his brother. Plus, questions would get raised when he saw you and Jay sharing a room. Plus, you didn't want to try and pretend you weren't together for however long Will would be staying with you.

"It's okay," he assured you, holding one of your hands. "I'll call him in the morning. Can we just go to bed?" You nodded, walking to the bedroom with him. You just really wished the brothers would work this out.

"I invited Mouse to stay with us for a while," Jay told you, Mouse standing next to him. It wasn't like you'd say no, but a bit more of a heads up would be good. "I'm taking some time off to stay with him while he cleans up."

"Okay," you agreed. "It's nice to see you again, Mouse." It had been nine years since you'd seen him, and it had taken its toll. His cheekbones were sunken in, dark circles around his eyes. When you'd first met him, he'd been hyper, but Jay had told you that was normal for Mouse. This type of hyper, you knew, was because of drugs. "If you need anything, don't hesitate, okay?" Mouse just nodded.

You helped Jay get the spare room set up, not saying anything. When it was ready for him, you reached out, squeezing Jay's hand with a smile.

"He's gonna get better, especially with you here to help him," you told him.

The first week was the hardest, Jay practically barricading Mouse in the house to keep him from leaving. You were surprised he didn't just cuff him, but then you knew Mouse could make the argument of unlawful was a lot of crying, a lot of late nights. You didn't hear most of their conversations, knowing they talked about the war a lot. It was the reason they were in this mess to begin with, both struggling in one way, shape, or form with PTSD. You knew all you could do was be there for them, both of them.

The first time Mouse wanted to talk to you and not to Jay was hard on them both. He wanted to talk about some of the things he'd done since they'd been back, things he was ashamed of and didn't want Jay to know. "Not yet at least", was what he said. And you listened, Telling him that it didn't make him a bad person, agreeing that the VA had failed him. That was when he told you a story you didn't think you could have prepared yourself to hear.

"We were in the convoy, going from one to place to another, patrolling mostly. Jay and I were in the second Humvee. We were talking about going home since our tour was about to end. We barely recognized the explosion in front of us," Mouse told you as he leaned against the dresser, you sitting across from him with your back against the bed. It was a safe spot for him, being low. You never questioned it. "The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the sand, the Humvee flipped. My first thought was to find Jay. He was bruised, but said he was okay, so I believed him. I shattered my arm in three different spots. We were taking heavy fire, couldn't tell where it was coming from. I thought we were going to die that day, Y/N."

Jay had never told you this story, didn't know if it was something he ever wanted you to know. But because Mouse wanted to talk about it, you listened.

"I was sent to Germany, and then home, an honorable medical discharge they told me. It didn't feel honorable though, felt like I had failed Jay. For the next year, I didn't know if he'd survived, until he reached out to me when he got back. Seeing him like that. I failed him in so many ways." Mouse seemed to cry in front of you more often than Jay did, tears on his cheeks again.

"You didn't fail him at all, Greg," you said, using his real name to get his attention. "You kept him safe. Hell, you saved his life both over there, and back here. That's honorable to me."

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything." That was his tell that he wanted to be alone, so you stood up with a smile, shutting the door behind you.

You found Jay in bed, reading a book. It was a nice sight, sighing as you laid down after the long day you'd had, your head on his shoulder as you read over his shoulder.

"Mouse told me about the Humvee accident that got him discharged," you said, getting Jay's attention pretty fast. The book found its way to the bedside table with less than smooth movements.

"I'm going to assume you want to talk to me about it?" Jay asked, looking over at you.

"You know I'm never going to push you about it, but I want to understand what you went through, Jay. It's been almost a decade since you got back, and I know one thing about the entire time you were over there," you told him.

"I lost two very close friends in the Humvee that hit the IED," he told you. "And Mouse got discharged. I spent the last almost year over there with three of my friends gone. That first year, we went through a lot. And I mean, a lot. And that last year, I didn't know if I was going to make it without them. That accident is one of the reasons I hate driving sometimes." His voice was shaking, obvious that he was upset now.

"Jay, I didn't mean…" You wanted to explain yourself, wanted to apologize, but he cut you off.

"I know. But there's a reason I don't talk about it, okay?" You nodded, laying on your own side of the bed. It took you a bit to start to fall asleep, but you recognized the familiar weight of his arm draped over your waist.

You were excited for Mouse when Jay helped him find a small apartment nearby and got him a job as the tech guy for Intelligence. It finally felt like things were getting back on track in your lives. Things were good at work for the both of you, having spent many nights out with Jay and his team at Molly's. The twinge of jealousy you felt because of Erin had disappeared when she'd found a seemingly nice guy, plus Jay's assurances that you were the one he wanted. Will had started to come around to the idea of everything that had happened between you and Jay, but he was still very much on the fence.

"I've got to go to work," you told him with a laugh, his arms holding you close, not letting go. His chest was pressed against your back, and you could feel the heat radiating off him.

"Five more minutes," he whined, not ready to let you leave the bed. As much as you would love that, you didn't want to be late for work. It was going to be a long day, you had a feeling.

"Jay, that's what you said ten minutes ago," you reminded him, turning around in his arms. He was still half asleep with adorable bed head and a smile. You kissed him softly, hand gently resting on his cheek. It was lazy, no real purpose behind it besides just kissing him.

"I'll see you when you get home," he told you against your lips, loosening his grip on you so that you could escape into the real world, as much as you would love to stay in bed all day.

You texted him during lunch, telling him about your day so far and the funny things some of your students had done. He seemed to enjoy the stories, telling you he loved you and that he'd have dinner waiting for you at home.

Students trickled in after lunch, sitting in their seats. You began your lesson when you heard the fire alarm going off. You weren't expecting a drill, and glancing out the window of the door, you didn't see any smoke or anybody leaving classrooms. That was when your class phone rang. When you answered it, you weren't expecting to be told it was a lockdown.

In a hushed voice, you corralled the kids against the back wall before locking the door, turning off the lights, and covering the window. Then, you knelt in front of them, fire extinguisher next to you, trying to keep them calm and quiet.

The first shots that rang out sent chills down your spine, hearing screaming. It was your job to keep your kids safe, trying to stay calm for their sakes. You promised them it would be okay, against your better judgement. School shootings were nothing new, having gone over every policy and procedure in place multiple times every year in case it did happen. And now, here you were. You didn't think of anything else other than the group of terrified six year olds sniffling in front of you.

"It's gonna be okay, guys," you assured them quietly. "Your mommys and daddys are gonna be waiting for you outside. I promise."

It was false hope to you. You knew statistics, you read the stories of teachers and students dying as martyrs, they're deaths being used for politics. You didn't want to become just another statistic, another name and face on the news. But you would, if it meant the group of children in front of you got to live the rest of their lives.

You could hear your phone buzzing in the drawer of your desk, but you didn't move. You knew in your gut that it was Jay, who'd probably heard the news of what was happening. It was a distraction, yet you still flinched every time you heard a gunshot echoing through the halls.

You looked up at the clock, wondering when it would be over. There wasn't a set timeline of how long it would take police to take down a shooter, but you'd always been told it wouldn't be long. It felt like an eternity though.

The door to your classroom rattled, and suppressing the gasp that bubbled at the edge of your lips was difficult. All of the kids were silently crying, and you made sure to shush them a little more before you stood up. You defensively held the fire extinguisher, tiptoeing your way next to the door, your back against the wall.

You froze when someone breached the door, a gun pointed at you for a split second before you realized it was a SWAT officer. Slowly, you put down the extinguisher as he motioned for you to get the kids.

You knelt in front of them, getting their attention. "Okay, these men are police officers," you told them in a whisper. "We're going to go with them, okay? But we still have to stay super quiet. Just like when we walk in the halls during school, one line, hold hands, and stay super quiet." Most of them nodded as you got them up. "Okay, guys. The nice policeman is going to lead you out really fast, and I'm going to be right behind you. Okay?" The children nodded again, and that was exactly what you did.

You never thought the feeling of the sun on your face would be so relieving, but there you were, running down the steps with the kids in front of you. You kept an eye on them as each one ran to their parents before doing anything else. Jay was probably worried about you, especially because you couldn't call him since your phone was still in the classroom.

Your hands came up, running through your hair as you looked around at the chaos. There was the media, worried and crying parents, cops everywhere. That's when you saw Jay pushing his way through the crowd frantically, looking for someone. You assumed it was you. As soon as you saw him, your legs carried you as fast as possible to him without having to think about it. Your eyes met his a second before slamming into him. The familiar feeling of his arms around you was a safe haven for you, was the only thing you wanted in that moment. You didn't hear anything he said over the sounds of your own sobs. It was all hitting you at once, and you could not process it.

"I've got you, you're okay," he whispered in your ear, one hand moving from your back to the back of your head, stroking through your hair. Your hands fisted his shirt, letting him hold you.

"Are you hurt?" he finally asked, pulling back as tears continued to drip down your cheeks, but the sobs dying off. He stroked your face, down your arms, still looking terrified and worried.

"No. No," you assured him, trying to force a smile, but all that came were more tears. Especially when you saw tears in his eyes. "Can we go home?" you then asked.

"Not yet, baby," he answered, getting a whine of protest. All you wanted was to go home. "I know, but the police have to do their jobs okay? But as soon as they're done, we'll go home, order some Chinese food, and watch a horrible chick flick okay?" You nodded, leaning your head on his chest again, loosely holding onto him. You started shivering, mostly because it was October in Chicago, the wind biting your exposed skin.

"Here," he said softly, pulling off his jacket and helping you put it on. "I know nothing I can say can make this any better, but I'm here okay?" You nodded, knowing he meant it.

It took three more hours before they let you leave, having taken your statement. Jay walked closely behind you, hand on your back as he led you to the car. You weren't allowed back in the building to get your things. They'd call Jay when you could. The ride home was quiet, Jay holding onto your hand tightly the entire way.

When you got home, you stood in the foyer, not sure what to do. That morning, you'd left like any normal day. Now, things were different. Your view of the world was different.

"Why?" you asked, not to Jay, but just out loud. You weren't expecting an answer. There was no answer as far as you were concerned. It felt like there was no rhyme or reason for it. "They-Jay, they're just kids," you finally said, looking up at him, bottom lip quivering again.

"I don't know, Y/N. Some people are just monsters." You knew it to be true. Jay knew it to be true. He spent day in and day out looking for the monsters of the world. He knew better than anybody the kinds of people that were out there.

"They're kids!" you yelled, not sure why. It felt right, so why not? "School is supposed to be safe for them! It's supposed to be where they can go to get out of bad situations!" Jay leaned against the wall, arms crossed, listening to you. "How are we supposed to protect them? Kids are killing kids on the streets! Guns are in everybody's hands! I thought Chicago was supposed to have one of the strictest gun laws in the country!"

"I know," he said, but you cut him off.

"Do you, Jay? Do you?" you asked, not sure why you were so angry at him. "You weren't there! You don't know!" How could you explain it to him? How could you tell him how scared you were, how you thought you were going to die? How could you try to relive your students - a group of six year olds - crying because they might not get to go home? Was there a way to explain it?

"Y/N," he said softly, arms uncrossing as he took a slow, hesitant step towards you. "I know what it's like thinking you're going to die." You looked up at him, chewing on your bottom lip. "I know that fear. I understand."

"No, Jay. That...That's different. That was war," you argued, shaking your head.

"It's the same," he assured you. "Maybe different circumstances, but that fear you felt. That fear I can tell you're still feeling. I understand that. And I'm here. I'll listen. Yell at me, use me as an emotional punching bag, I can handle it, okay? I was there, and you helped pull me out. And I'll be here to do the same. If you want to talk about it, I'll listen. And if you don't, I won't push it, okay? Just like you do for me."

You nodded, trying to hold back more tears. You still didn't believe it was the same, but he seemed to think it was.

"How many?" you asked, knowing he'd have the answer for you. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before looking at you.

"Two teachers, eight students," he answered before you're hand shot to your mouth, trying to muffle the choked sob that escaped.

"How old?" You needed to know. You'd convinced yourself that you needed to know this.

"Y/N," he said, shaking his head, obviously not wanting to tell you.

"How. Old." You spoke through clenched teeth. He wasn't budging though, mouth pressed in a straight line. "How old were they, Jay! How old!"

"Two of them were five, and the other six were six years old," he finally answered, unblinking as he told you. You saw your students in the back of your mind. What if it had been one of them? What if you'd failed them and it had been one of them? "Wherever your mind is going right now, bring it back," he told you.

"I did everything right. I did everything they taught us. Lock the doors. Stay quiet. Grab the fire extinguisher." By the time you got to the last step, you were practically whispering.

"You did everything right, Y/N," he agreed. "And you know what happened?" You shook your head, needing him to tell you. "You got out of that building alive, with no injuries. And you got sixteen six year olds back to their parents today."

"Did they get him?" you then asked, not able to look at him again. This was the answer you truly needed to know.

"Yeah, baby. They got him." You couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No. I want to go to bed," you answered. Jay didn't say anything else, following you to the bedroom. You tried to block it all out of your head, tried to not think about it. But the more you tried not to think about it, the more you thought about it. It was a vicious cycle. Jay got changed into his sweats, and you couldn't help but just stand there, unmoving.

"It's okay," he assured you, grabbing a pair of your pajamas and setting them on the bed. He moved slowly, gently as he got you undressed before helping you into your pajamas. You didn't realize your hands were shaking until he took them in his. "Let's lay down, okay?"

You nodded again, climbing into bed with him. It took a minute to get comfortable, but when you did, you relaxed into him. Your head rested on his chest, arm draped over his waist, holding onto him like a liferaft. His hands stroked through your hair slowly, gently. It was just calming enough to help you fall asleep.

You were running down a seemingly endless hallway, footsteps following close behind. It felt like you couldn't breathe, your lungs burning with every inhale and freezing with every exhale. You could see the kids in the distance, but you couldn't get to them before shots rang out. Each of them fell to the ground, a scream clawing at your throat as tears stung your eyes.

"Y/N!" Who was calling you? It sounded familiar. "Y/N!" Again. Someone was shaking you, eyes flying open.

"It's okay, I've got you," Jay assured you as you started to realize that you were at home, safe, with him. He let you process it for a couple of minutes, not saying anything, looking at you with tired eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," you answered quickly, sitting up. You didn't move off the bed, staring at the wall in front of you. Like Jay promised, he didn't push it.

"Voight was the one to call me," he told you softly. "Trudy had found out what was going on at the school and had told him, since she remembered a conversation we'd had where I mentioned where you worked. It had just been a small talk conversation, she'd been asking how you were. But she remembered that detail." That got you to look at him. "I remember feeling terrified, like my blood had turned to ice. I froze until Voight dragged me to my car and told me to go. And when I got there, I asked if anybody had seen you, and they'd all said no. I couldn't help but think the worst. Then, I saw you come out of the building, alive. I almost couldn't believe it at first, but then you ran to me. As soon as I had you in my arms, I knew it was going to be okay eventually."

You didn't know why he was telling you this. Was it to guilt you into talking about it? Jay had promised he wouldn't push it, the same courtesy you gave him, so that most likely wasn't it.

"Y/N, I thought I lost you, for good. Whatever it is, whatever your brain is coming up with, it's not gonna scare me off, okay?" You nodded, laying back down. It wasn't like before though, kissing him as soon as you were close enough.

It seemed to take him by surprise before his lips moved slowly against yours. But you didn't want slow. You wanted him to help you forget, to push it completely out of your mind, if only for a couple of hours. Your nails raked down his chest, eliciting a groan from him.

"We can't," he told you against your lips.

"Yes we can." You didn't want to take no for an answer, determined to forget. "Please, Jay." He kissed you for a bit longer, but as soon as you tried to dip your hand down the front of his pants, he grabbed your wrist.

"Not tonight. You're upset, like me after Ben. Not tonight." You pressed a softer kiss to his lips, tears coming back. Would you ever stop crying? "I love you, you know that?"

"Yeah," you agreed. He nodded, pulling you against his chest again. It was going to take you a while, but he seemed to believe that you'd be okay.

You'd taken a sabbatical from work after the shooting, taking the next year off. You spent the time working with underprivileged youth. It had helped clear your mind, and it helped you move past what had happened. As much as you missed teaching, as much as you missed the younger kids, it gave you a new perspective on what your future could be, professional wise. Jay hadn't wanted you to do it, but he didn't stop you. Just because it wasn't something he agreed with didn't mean he didn't support you through it.

It had also given you a lot of time to think about what you wanted from your life in general. You weren't getting any younger afterall. You were almost thirty-five. You'd been married to Jay for nearly half your life, but it didn't feel official. The conversation the two of you had a few years ago had been coming to mind more often, when he asked you if you'd consider marrying him again because you loved him, and not because he was joining the Army. It truly felt like a lifetime ago. In reality, it was.

"What smells so good?" Jay asked when he got home. You'd picked up cooking, taking some classes to kill some time. You'd found enjoyment in it, plus, Jay wasn't one to complain. Until he had to go to the gym, then he complained.

"Making ravioli," you answered, kissing him when he walked up to you. "I actually wanted to talk to you about something." You scooped out a piece, letting him try it.

"That's good," he said as he chewed, earning him a gentle smack to remind him of manners. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well, we've been married for almost fifteen years, and dating for nearly a decade," you reminded him. It was always weird to say it backwards, most people dating longer than they'd been married. "I was thinking, maybe it's time to renew our vows. Officially. In a ceremony."

"You want to get married again?" he asked with a smug smile.

"Yes, I want to get married again. Because I love you." His smile got wider as you used his own words against him.

"I'll be right back." You couldn't help but chuckle as he quickly left the room, turning your attention back to the food to make sure it didn't burn. When he came back, one arm snaked around your middle, his chin resting on your shoulder. What you weren't expecting was for his free hand to hold up a small, velvet box.

"What is this, Jay?" you asked even though you already knew.

"Open it." You set down the spoon, taking the box from him. When you opened it, you didn't know what you were expecting. It was a simple, silver band with one larger set diamond surrounded by smaller ones. It was an engagement ring.

"Jay," you said softly.

"Try it on." He didn't have to tell you twice before you took the ring out and slipped it on your finger. "I know I got you a ring pop for our short-lived last engagement, but I wanted to do it right this time."

"I don't even know what you're talking about, Jay Halstead. Since you haven't asked me anything." You turned around in his arms, your hand resting on his cheek with the brightest smile on your face.

"Y/N. Will you marry me? Again?" he asked softly. As much as you loved him, and as much as you loved the first time he asked you to marry him, this time, it felt right. This time, it was for real.

"Yes, Jay. I'll marry you." He smiled again, hope and love in those blue eyes. This was where you wanted to be for the rest of your life.


	8. Chapter 8

Your and Jay's relationship had been no secret when it started, and you'd been told to end it as soon as Voight found out. There was something there, though, something that you wanted to hold onto. So you told Voight in no uncertain terms no. Either he let it continue, or you left the unit. He wasn't happy with you, giving you all the grunt work, splitting you up from Jay. Eventually, though, he realized neither of you let it get in the way of your jobs. In fact, he'd told you he'd never seen a stronger partnership. And that was that. It just took six months, and nearly broke you up. Instead, you both had come out stronger and with a more solid relationship.

It was a tough case. A baby was found in a duffel bag next to the lake, nearly dead, barely holding onto life. It got to you, but you never let your emotions get the better of you on a case. This time was different, and you couldn't figure out why. As soon as you and Jay got in the car to go back to the district to begin figuring out who did this, the waterworks started. He looked over at you, confused and worried.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, hand resting on your shoulder. You rummaged in the glovebox to find a napkin, knowing the two of you had them stockpiled from late nights and early mornings of shared meals in the car. It didn't take you long to find one, wiping away the tears and blowing your nose.

"I'm fine, Jay," you assured him. "Let's just catch whoever did this." He gave your shoulder a squeeze before starting the car and heading back to the district.

Over the next three weeks, it had happened two more times. A case had made you openly cry at work. Jay had been fretting over you, which made the mood swings go in the opposite direction. At the same time, you wanted to jump his bones every chance you had. Not that he had any complaints. This was one of those times.

"Jay, how many times do I have to tell you, I'm fine!" you reminded him for the hundredth time that day when you got back to his place. He'd been trying to keep you away from the crime scenes, not sure if you were going to burst into tears or not.

"I'm not saying you're not," he responded, which got a stern look in return. "I don't know what's going on with you lately, okay. I'm just worried."

"I don't need you to be worried about me!" You saw the look of hurt on his face, so you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. You're blood pressure was probably high, and you knew that wasn't a good thing. "I appreciate that you care, but you have no need to worry."

"Okay." You smiled and nodded, squeezing his hand. Just looking at him made you want him. Your eyes flickered from his down to his lips and back, you brought your bottom lip between your teeth with a smirk. "What?" he then asked, smiling, before your lips were on his roughly, your hands in his hair.

He didn't protest, hands sliding up the back of your shirt, undoing the clasp on your bra. It was so familiar, but never did it feel boring or repetitive. You pulled back, breaths coming fast and heavy, quickly getting rid of his shirt. There was a split second before he did the same, your bra falling to the floor as well. It happened so fast from the time you first kissed him until you fell into bed with him, need growing and ever present. Every one of his touches sent electricity through your body, fueling your need for him. It was like sparks, something you'd never felt before.

"If we keep going like this, you're gonna break me," he joked as you fell back onto the bed with a satisfied sigh.

"You're not gonna break," you assured him, turning your head to the side to look at him through half lidded eyes. He pushed your hair out of your face, making sure to get the pieces that were sticking to your skin.

"I beg to differ. I swear, we've been going at it like rabbits recently." Your brow furrowed. "I'm not saying I don't like it, because believe me. I like it."

"Good save, Halstead," you said, kissing him again.

"I think you were upset with her. I mean, she cheated on you, man," Jay told the suspect, trying to sympathize. The two of you played good-cop-bad-cop pretty well, and you got the short straw of being bad cop, your arms crossed over your chest. "So, you went over to her house and you saw another dude there, you lost it. I get it. I mean, if my girl was cheating on me and then I saw another dude at her place. Well." Your stomach churned, even though you knew he was just trying to get the guy to confess.

"Even if I did it, which I didn't, you don't got anything on me," the suspect reminded the two of you. That was your cue to pull out the file, slapping the pictures down in front of him on the table, one by one.

"I've got a partial fingerprint match on the door handle, on both sides. The murder weapon at your house. A dead ex that you had beef with. And a dead man who just happened to be seeing your ex." You caught sight of one of the bloodier pictures, stomach churning again. "At this point, we can pin it on you. If you confess, help us understand why, we-" You cut yourself off, swallowing. "We." That was it, you couldn't do it, rushing out of the interrogation room to the trashcan in the hallway.

You heard the door open and shut, footsteps behind you as Jay held back your hair. Your lunch was out of your system and you were just dry heaving at that point. His free hand rubbed soft circles on your lower back as you held onto the trashcan until your knuckles were white.

"I've got you," he assured you as you coughed a couple of times. A hand came next to your face, offering you a cup of water. You took it, looking up at Voight with a groan as another wave of nausea rolled over you.

"I want you to go lay down on the couch in the break room," Voight told you. "Halstead is going to finish up this interrogation, get that confession, and then drive you home. Understood?" You nodded, pushing yourself into an upright position before sluggishly walking to the break room, feeling both men's eyes on your back and quiet whispering between them as you walked away.

You'd fallen asleep on the couch, waking up when Jay gently shook your shoulder. When you opened your eyes, it was to his pretty face. He leaned in, kissing you softly.

"My breath smells like vomit," you warned him, but he didn't seem to care, kissing you anyway. "Time to go home?"

"Time to go home," he agreed, helping you up. "You feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling better." You still took the opportunity to lean into him, his arm around your shoulder. "I don't know what that was all about, though. One minute I'm fine, the next…" You trailed off, not sure what to say about it.

"Well, let's go home. And I'll make you some soup or something, okay?" You just nodded, walking out with him to the car. Whatever was going on with you, you weren't one-hundred percent sure it was just some stomach bug.

"I'll take just two large black coffees," you told the barista at your normal coffee shop. Jay was waiting for you in the car so that the two of you could head to the district for work that day. The barista looked at you funny when you ordered.

"One of those isn't for you, is it dear?" She was an older woman, probably in her mid-sixties. You'd seen her most day's you'd came in, both with and without Jay.

"Yes, one of them is for me," you laughed, thinking it was some kind of joke, but her brow furrowed in response to your laugh. "My order hasn't changed in over a year."

"Well, coffee isn't good for the baby." That got you stop in your tracks, looking at her with a lot of confusion evident in your face. "Honey, you've been glowing the past few weeks. Plus, I've noticed how you've been hanging off that man of yours recently. You really didn't know you're pregnant?"

"Can you just get those coffees please?" you asked, leaning against the counter. There was no way you were pregnant, right? Yet, it made sense. How you wanted to jump Jay every chance you got, the crying, the mood swings, getting sick in the middle of an interrogation. She didn't say anything else to you when she handed you the coffee, and you went back out to the car completely quiet. Jay seemed to notice pretty quickly that something was up.

"You feeling okay, babe?" he asked as you set the coffees in the cup holders.

"I need you to stop at a drugstore on the way. Any one, doesn't matter," you answered, keeping your hands in your lap and not touching the coffee. He still looked worried, but didn't press further as he began the drive to the nearest drugstore, parking on the street.

"You want me to come in with you?" You just shook your head no as you got out of the car, slamming the car door shut behind you.

You didn't think you'd be standing in the aisle in front of a few rows of pregnancy tests. Which one were you supposed to pick any way? Nobody had ever told you what kind of pregnancy test was the best one to try. Did it even matter, if they all did the same thing. Instead of pondering and looking at boxes, you just grabbed the first one you saw before making a beeline towards the cashier. You hoped whoever it was didn't say anything to you, not wanting to deal with the awkward conversation. You paid, shoved the test - wrapped in a plastic bag - in your coat pocket before going back out.

The ride to the district was quiet, Jay not asking any more questions despite getting a lot of side-eye glances from him. You still didn't touch your coffee. When you got to the district, you grabbed his hand, pulling him into the locker room.

"I need you right now," you told him, getting a smirk. "Not like that you perv." You pulled the pregnancy test out of your pocket.

"You think you're pregnant?" he asked quickly as soon as he saw the box.

"I don't know. Maybe. It would make sense. And then the barista at the coffee shop told me I was glowing and that coffee is bad for the baby. It got me to thinking. Plus, I'm late, like really late, but I've never been regular so I didn't think anything of it. I just...I need you here, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, taking a seat on one of the bences. You let out a sigh before going into one of the stalls, taking the test. You sat it on the sink, setting the timer, and then sitting next to Jay.

"I know we haven't talked about a baby," you told him. "Do you even want kids?"

"Of course I do," he answered. "And sure, maybe we haven't talked about it, but I know I wouldn't want to have kids with anybody else." You just held his hand, waiting for the timer to go off on your phone. When it did, you didn't move, not sure if you wanted to know. It was limbo, and you were able to ignore the possibility for as long you stayed sitting.

"Together?" he suggested softly. That was a good idea, standing up with him as you both walked over to the sink. With shaking hand, you picked up the test. Two lines. You were pregnant.

"Why can't we tell anyone?" he asked you for the millionth time, which was really starting to give you a migraine on top of the one you already had.

"Because Jay, I don't want to be put on desk duty yet. I'm not ready for that. Plus, it's too early. I don't want to tell anyone until I'm out of the first trimester," you answered for the millionth time. You rested your head against the cool window as he drove. "Can you drive any faster?"

"I could, but I won't." You knew he was excited for this baby, and didn't want anything to happen to you. But it was stressing you out even more. You weren't a ticking time bomb, or made of glass, but he seemed to think you were.

"Pull the car over," you told him. He didn't just kept driving. "Jay, pull the damn car over." You gave him a stern look, with tears in your eyes, which got him to pull over. You were just so damn frustrated.

"What's up?" he asked softly.

"Where do I start, Jay?" You really didn't have the answer to that. "I'm pregnant, not an invalid. I know you care and are worried, but I need you to cool it, okay?"

"Wh-?" You cut him off before he could ask a stupid question.

"Jay. Just listen to me," you told him, turning in your seat to look at him, knowing you guys were already going to be late to work. "I love you. I love that you care." You took his hand in yours. "But I need you to support me, not coddle me, okay? You can drive like a normal person. You can let me stand up without having to be next to me. You can let me keep doing my job. And in a couple months, I will go on desk duty, I promise. Just, please, tell me that you understand that?"

"I just don't want anything to happen to you or the baby," he reminded you, which was sweet. You just had to stop him from going overboard.

"I know, Jay. And I'm not telling you not to worry about us or to not care. I just need you to cool it a bit," you replied. He nodded, leaning forward and kissing you softly.

"Let's get to work," he mumbled against your lips. When you pulled back, both of you had a smile. As he drove, it was at an actual speed and not grandpa style, which you knew was him understanding what you said.

"Sergeant," you said as you walked into Voight's office, Jay right behind you. He shut the door before Voight had the chance to respond.

"Is there something the two of you need?" Voight asked. You couldn't help but chew on your bottom lip, not sure how to say it.

You were far from ready to tell Voight, but both you and Jay needed to head out early for a doctor's appointment. Voight had to know to approve it, and you were terrified he'd put you on desk duty as soon as he found out. Jay's hand was on your lower back, feeling his thumb rubbing gently. Usually, if the two of you were anywhere near Voight, it was a hands off rule. Not this time.

"Sergeant, we both need to leave for a couple hours around one," Jay told him, getting a furrowed brow and confusion from the older man.

"Is there a reason two of my detectives - the two who are in a relationship - have to leave for a couple of hours?"

"We know how bad it sounds, sir," you assured him. "But it's not for anything untoward. Sergeant...Hank. I have a doctor's appointment today. I need Jay there because well…"

"I know you're pregnant, Y/N," Hank cut you off. That was a bombshell, not sure how he knew. He seemed to sense your own confusion. "I remember when Camille was pregnant with Justin. Saw it with you over the past couple months."

"Sergeant, I won't let this get in the way of my job. And I'll go on desk duty as soon as my doctor tells me to," you quickly said, getting Voight to raise his hand to cut you off.

"You'll go on desk duty at five months," he corrected. "If you leave the district for any reason job related, you wear a vest. And Halstead stays with you at all times. Got it?" You figured he'd have his own rules, but it sucked. It made sense though.

"Yes, sir," you answered, Jay nodding in agreement. The two of you left his office, sitting at your respective desks.

It was a slow day, mostly just catching up on paperwork. You'd been popping mints like candy to help keep the nausea at bay. Recently, the morning sickness had gotten worse, and you were really just trying to keep it together. Jay had noticed your mints had run out, tossing you a brand new pack from his pocket.

"You're the best," you told him before you noticed the time. "Ready to go?"

You didn't know what to say as Jay drove to the office. This was the first of many upcoming appointments, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you were pregnant. You quietly filled out the paperwork, a new kind of paperwork you'd never seen before. Jay looked over your shoulder as you did, smiling as you filled out the 'Father' section of the paperwork.

"What's on your mind?" he asked you when you sat back down.

"It's just a lot, Jay," you answered, leaning your head on his shoulder. "This wasn't part of the plan. Not for a while at least. But I'm happy it is with you."

"I am too. We'll figure this out, one step at a time," he assured, kissing the top of your head.

"One step at a time," you agreed, closing your eyes as you waited.

"Y/N," the nurse finally called, a clipboard in hand and with a smile. You hesitated until Jay stood up, offering you his hand.

The two of you followed the nurse to an exam room where she took her vitals, and did a quick assessment. Then, she handed you a gown to change into, saying the doctor would be in shortly. Jay didn't say anything the entire time, arms crossed over his chest and leaning back in his chair.

"Hi, I'm Emily Jackson," the doctor said as she walked in with a smile. You shook her hand. "And you must be Dad," she said, directing her attention at Jay. That got him to smile. "Are you ready to see your baby?"

"Yeah," you agreed, laying back on the table. Jay stood up, standing beside you and holding your hand.

"Well, let's do it." She got everything ready, and you looked at the screen of the ultrasound machine. "So, by the looks of it, you're about thirteen weeks, which is a little further along than I'd like. From your paperwork, you just found out in the last week, right?"

"Yeah. I've never been regular. And with the stresses of being a cop, it was easy to overlook the symptoms," you told her.

"It's not uncommon. We're going to make sure to start prenatal vitamins today. Measurements look good. Baby's moving around a little bit. Do you want to hear your baby's heartbeat?"

"Yes," Jay answered for you, squeezing your hand. You were already tearing up from seeing the baby on the ultrasound screen. You heard Emily hit a couple of buttons and then you heard it. Your heart skipped a beat, tears beginning to drip down your cheeks as you looked over at Jay.

"That's our baby," you managed to say as his hand stroked through your hair.

"That's our baby," he agreed with a smile. You could see tears glistening in his own eyes. The two of you looked back over at the screen.

"I'll print off some of the pictures for you guys. Go ahead and get dressed. Take your time. One of the nurses at the front desk can get those to you, get you the instructions for prenatal vitamins, and get you set for your next appointment, okay?" she told you as she stood up, handing you some tissues.

When she left, you turned back to Jay who was wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt.

"At least I'm not the only one crying this time," you joked with a smile as you used the tissues to wipe your eyes. "I feel less crazy."

"You're pregnant, not crazy." He kissed you softly, whispering against your lips, "We're having a baby."

The next week, the team had caught a case. It was a home invasion gone wrong, two college kids dead. Voight had kept you and Jay in house for most of it since it seemed pretty cut and dry. That was until the suspect told Atwater and Ruzek that it was a neighbor's idea, being under the assumption that the victims were from wealthy families.

"Y/L/N and Halstead, go to this neighbor's house and bring him in for an interview," you were told. "And don't forget what we talked about."

There was no way in Hell Jay would let you forget, going downstairs to get ready. He helped you strap on your vest, feeling like it weighed twenty pounds heavier now.

"If I wear one, you wear one, Jay," you tried to tell him, but he just laughed it off.

"I'll be fine. You're the one with the precious cargo." You huffed, but didn't press it further, pulling your flannel shirt over the vest, buttoning it up. "Can I at least drive?"

"You're funny, Y/N," Jay told you, kissing you softly. "Let's go get this guy."

The two of you got in the car, you bringing up the fact that neither of you had a spare room in either of your apartments. He just brushed it off, for now at least since you weren't backing down.

When the two of you got to the neighbor's place, you weren't expecting him to open fire on the two of you as soon as you got out of the car.

"5021 George. Shots fired at police. Send backup. Plain clothes officers on scene," he radioed grabbing his backup vest out the backseat and throwing it on.

You peeked up over the car when the gunshots stopped, Jay following suit. The two of you made your way up to the front porch, your hand on his shoulder. You could hear police sirens in the distance, knowing it wasn't going to be long before backup showed up.

The two of you breached the door, guns ready. He took the left, you took the right. The two of you were clearing each room. Your hand was on the doorknob of what you assumed was the bathroom. That's when shots rang out again. This time, though, the wind was knocked out of you as you hit the ground hard. It felt like you couldn't breathe as the door flew open, the neighbor running.

"Y/N!" you heard Jay call out as you tried to breathe. "5021 George, roll an ambo to our location. Suspect has shot a cop, he shot my partner," Jay radioed, seeming to be torn for a split second between chasing the suspect and helping you.

"Go!" you coughed, looking him in the eye as you did. He listened, running after the suspect. The edges of your vision began to get hazy, but you didn't feel any blood. At the same time, all you could feel was the pain each time you breathed.

When you tried to sit up, it made it worse. Someone fell to their knees next to you, hearing Jay's voice and feeling his hands on your chest and stomach.

"Talk to me," he told you, undoing your flannel to see that the vest stopped the bullet.

"Hurts to breathe," you groaned.

"Just stay down okay? The ambo is on the way and they'll get you to Med," he then assured you. You just groaned again, not wanting to go to Med or have Jay fretting over you anymore than he already has been.

Will was standing in front of you as you sat on the bed at Med, clipboard in his hand with a stern look at Jay who was sitting in the plastic chair next to you.

"When were you gonna tell me I'm gonna be an uncle?" Will asked with a smirk.

"Why do you think I set up that dinner for next week?" Jay answered. "So?"

"The baby is fine, no worries. The vest was the only thing that caused damage, a few bruised ribs, two cracked. A lot of superficial bruising. No strenuous," Will cleared his throat at that, causing you to blush, "activities. Desk work for the next few weeks."

"Until she goes on maternity leave," Voight corrected from the doorway. "Can I have a minute alone with my two detectives, Doc?" Will nodded, leaving the two of you with Voight.

"Sarge, I'm fine," you assured him, but he wouldn't let you say anything else.

"Yes, I know you're okay. However, we almost lost the guy because of Halstead hesitating," Voight told you. "So, from the time you get back from your three week medical leave, and I'm enforcing that pretty hard, you will be on desk duty in Intelligence until you leave for maternity. Which, I am enforcing at eight months. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," you answered before the rest of the team filed in with gifts. It seemed like the baby was out of the bassinet on this one.

The bruising had started to turn an ugly yellow on your chest, about to come off medical leave. You were going crazy, not sure if you could handle being cooped up for much longer. Sure you'd made your way around Chicago, doing some shopping, hanging out with some friends, whatever you could. But not having Jay around sucked. It was different when you were going home with him on those late nights, instead of waiting up for him.

You noticed the baby bump that day. It was barely there, but you noticed it. You'd spent most of the day on the couch, watching bad TV and eating ice cream, sending Jay a text to bring you some more.

It was getting late, the sun having set hours ago. You'd been falling asleep on the couch, blanket pulled up over you when you first felt it, which woke you up pretty fast. Your hand rested on your stomach as you felt persistent cramping. You knew it was far from normal.

The first thing you did was call for an ambulance. Jay wasn't there, and you were scared. The second thing you did was call Jay, not getting an answer. The ambulance got there, getting you loaded up. You couldn't help but cry, telling them you needed to get ahold of Jay.

That's when you called Voight.

"Y/N, why are you calling so late?" he asked. You could hear the bustle of the bullpen in the background, so you knew they were still at the district.

"I-" You sniffled. "I need Jay."

"We're in the middle of a case," he reminded you, which caused a choked off sob. "Are those sirens?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I need to talk to Jay." There was a brief pause before you heard the phone exchange hands.

"What's going on?" Jay asked, worried, which caused you to cry some more. "Talk to me, please."

"I'm in an ambulance. Going to Med," you told him.

"I'm on my way, okay? You're gonna be okay." The phone hung up, and you were shaking, not sure what was going on.

Natalie was your doctor when you got to Med, rushing you into a room. You could see an ultrasound waiting in the room. As soon as they got you moved over, your shirt was rolled up, and Natalie did the ultrasound.

"Is-Am I?" You didn't know how to ask.

"You are not having a miscarriage," Natalie said calmly with a smile. "But we're going to make sure everything is alright and figure out why you're cramping. Okay?" You nodded. "Is Jay on his way?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he should be here. He...is Will here?" Natalie nodded motioning at a nurse to get Will for you.

"Hey, Jay just called me okay?" Will said as soon as he stepped into the room, grabbing the gown for you to change into. "He's almost here, going as fast as he can." You couldn't help but sniffle, grabbing the tissue he offered to you.

"This is all my fault," you managed to tell him. "I didn't want to tell people. I didn't want to go on desk duty. Then I got shot and now...now there's something wrong with the baby, Will. And it's my fault."

Will brought you into a hug, letting you cry it out. That was until Jay came in, switching out with his brother. You didn't have to look up to know it was Jay. The way he held you was different, safer. You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head.

"Let's get you changed into the gown, okay?" Jay finally said.

"I'm sorry," you told him as he helped you get your shirt off before tying the gown for you.

"This isn't your fault," he assured you, sitting in the chair next to your bed.

"But it is." You were insistent about this. If you couldn't keep a baby safe inside you, how were you supposed to do it when the baby was actually there.

You didn't say much else the entire time you were there. It was a mix of silence and soft crying. Jay didn't say much either, but he held you when you cried and held your hand when you weren't.

"So we have all your tests back," Natalie finally said with a smile. "You're healthy. The baby is healthy, okay?"

"So then what happened?" Jay asked, curious.

"The stress of getting shot didn't help. Stress can cause cramping. Also, it's honestly leaning towards round ligament pain since your body isn't used to a growing baby. It's one-hundred percent completely normal," she answered. "I had it when I was pregnant with Owen. If I wasn't a doctor, I would have thought the worst too."

"Do I...Should I take more time off work?" you asked.

"It wouldn't hurt," she answered. "I'm going to let you and Jay talk about that though. Medically, I don't see it as necessary, but if you decide to take more time off, I'll sign off on it. For however long."

You nodded, at least knowing that it was normal. When Natalie left, you heard Jay sigh, looking over as he rubbed his face with his free hand.

"Do you want to take more time off?" Jay asked you.

"Had you asked me this morning, I would have said I wanted to go back today," you answered. "But you heard Natalie. The stress doesn't help."

"Yeah, babe. But she also said it's some kind of ligament pain and it's normal," he reminded you. "If you come back to work, I can keep you company for a good portion of the day."

"You mean keep an eye on me?" you corrected, hoping he didn't go back to overprotective dad mode.

"Y/N," he started but you cut him off.

"I'm going to take another couple weeks off, Jay. I just don't feel ready." He nodded, handing you your shirt. You weren't going to lie, you still blamed yourself despite the constant assurances it wasn't your fault. Maybe that would change.

"Jay," you said one night, two months later. You'd gone back to work finally, which made Jay happy. Though, you were more tired after work than usual. Probably from growing a human inside you.

"Hmmm?" he asked, hands rubbing your feet. He had magic hands in your opinion. It didn't help that your feet had been swelling if you stood up for too long.

"Give me your hand." You'd rather he didn't stop rubbing your feet, but you knew this was important. You pressed his palm to the side of your ever growing belly, watching his face, knowing it might take a minute. But when it did, you saw the light in his eyes, the amazement and wonder on his face.

"Is that?" he asked, looking at you. You just nodded. It had taken a while for the baby to start kicking where Jay might be able to feel it, usually it was your back, bladder, or kidney.

"That's...wow," he told you. "That's our baby."

"That's our baby. That's your baby," you further stated with a smile, your hand resting on top of his. He didn't move his hand, and the baby kept slowly kicking the same spot.

"While the baby has your attention, I wanted to ask you something." He hummed in response, knowing you had his attention, even if it didn't seem like it. "I was thinking we could find a place, our place. I don't want to try and get a baby back and forth. And neither of our places have a spare room for a nursery." His hand didn't move from your stomach, but he looked up at you.

"Are you suggesting we move in together?" He asked, still smiling.

You bit your bottom lip, nodding. He nodded too, the both of you smiling until he kissed you. It was nice.

"I love you, you know that?" you said, cupping his cheek. He kissed you again in response, knowing that was his way of telling you he loved you too.

It didn't take long for the two of you to find a nice two-bedroom in Humboldt Park. It was nice to have two detectives' salaries, that was for sure. You'd been slowing down a bit, six months pregnant, taking a toll on you.

You'd began nesting too, despite how much you tried to suppress it. It involved your and Jay's days off at different stores, getting furniture, decoration, and paint for the nursery. When you felt like you had everything you needed, you and Jay began getting everything together.

"Do you really have to be in here as I paint?" Jay asked. You'd sat yourself on the floor, legs crossed as you ate a bowl of ice cream. He'd tried kicking you out, saying the fumes would be bad, so you'd made the counter argument of the fan blowing out of the open window.

"Yes. I have to make sure you do it right," you answered, watching him.

His shorts had spots if pastel yellow from painting, so did the white t-shirt. You could see the muscles of his back and shoulders, so defined as he reached up to paint higher. You moaned softly, spoon loosely hanging out of your mouth.

"You liking what you see?" he asked when he looked over his shoulder at you with a smile, catching you staring.

"Mhm," you agreed.

"Do you want me to keep painting?" You weren't sure, torn between the options of jumping his bones or eating ice cream. "We can put the ice cream in the freezer for later."

"Help me up," you told him with a smile, setting the bowl on the floor.

"Next time, maybe a chair?" he suggested, taking a hold of your hands and pulling you up with a chuckle. As soon as you were up, you were kissing him.

It had taken the two of you - mostly Jay - an entire weekend to get the nursery set up. It was hard to keep your hands off him, many breaks. The doctor and all the pregnancy books had told you it was normal to have a boost in sex drive in the middle of pregnancy. They didn't lie apparently.

The two of you stood in the doorway, looking into the room. He stood behind you, hands on your stomach as you leaned back into him.

"We did a good job," he told you, chin on your shoulder.

"You mean you did a good job." He laughed kissing your cheek.

"You supervised. And made sure I took much needed, fun breaks." You wanted to slap him, but you didn't. He could be snarky when he wanted to be.

That night you woke up, shaking his shoulder after debating it for twenty minutes. You couldn't sleep.

"Yeah?" he asked, eyes closed and half asleep still. Which got you shaking his shoulder again. He rolled over, looking at you with half open eyes. "Can I help you?" he then asked with a smile.

"Can you go to the store?" you asked, feeling kind of bad that you woke him up now that he was looking at you.

"What do you want me to get?" He sat up, knowing he wasn't going to get out of it now that you'd woken him up.

"Mashed potatoes, peanut butter, pickles, and hot sauce," you answered.

"Please tell me you're not eating it all together?" That got you tearing up, feeling like he was judging you. It wouldn't be the first time you started crying over seemingly nothing.

"Sorry, sorry," he said as he got up, getting his pants on. "I'll be back soon, okay? Mashed potatoes, peanut butter, pickles, and hot sauce." You nodded, getting up with him because you had to pee.

When he got back, you weren't feeling it. Plus, he'd taken long enough for you to start eating the leftover Chinese food from that afternoon.

"I'm sorry, Jay," you apologized when he put everything away, looking exhausted.

"It's okay, babe." He kissed you, sitting down next to you on the couch. "I knew what I signed up for when that test came up positive."

"Antonio warned you, didn't he?" you asked, getting a laugh and a nod as he leaned his head on your shoulder, hand on your stomach. You couldn't help but smile, knowing there wasn't anybody else you'd rather be doing this with.

You didn't care whether or not you found out the sex of the baby before the birth. It wasn't something that was overly important to you, as long as it came out healthy. Jay was the one who wanted to know, letting Kim take reign on setting up a gender reveal and baby shower. It was a nice day in April, having just started warming up. You still dressed in a floral long sleeve shirt and a pair of maternity jeans.

You could remember hating going shopping for new clothes when your clothes no longer fit. You'd tried putting on a pair of jeans to go to work, not able to get them buttoned. Jay had walked in on you sitting in your underwear and tank top, crying on the bed. It was enough for you to call off work, Jay taking you clothes shopping the next day.

However, when you and Jay were out at the store, you saw the shirt, adding it to the cart. You knew Kim was planning the gender reveal and baby shower soon, so you took the opportunity to get something nice.

The day of the gender reveal, Jay drove you to the park where Kim and Adam had already set everything up just a couple blocks away. You didn't have any family left, but everyone that was there were your new family. You'd found them, built it from the ground up, and you couldn't be happier.

"Y/N!" Kim yelled as soon as she saw you and Jay. It looked like half the district was there, as well as quite a few people from Med and from Firehouse 51 that you'd visit quite often for one reason or another. It was nice, being liked enough for so many people to show up for you and Jay.

"Badges or Bows?" you asked Kim, leaning into Jay, his hand rubbing gently on your lower back.

"I know it's very gendered, but that's what this is for. Hopefully, badges either way," Kim assured you, bringing you into a gentle hug.

"Thank you for this," Jay told her, hugging her once she was done with you.

"Any time. Now, let's socialize and then we'll get to the reason we're all here," she suggested, getting a nod from both of you.

Jay stayed by your side the entire time as everyone congratulated the both of you, hands on your stomach. You felt like a party favor by the end of it, having to ask people to stop putting their hands on you. They were understanding at least, not arguing it all with smiles. Towards the end, Kim pulled you and Jay to the front of the crowd, Trudy holding the black balloon. Kim was the one to hand you and Jay two safety pins.

"Whenever you guys are ready," she told you. You couldn't help but smile at Jay as he counted down from three. The two of you both hit the balloon with the safety pins at the same time, pink confetti falling over the both of you.

"A girl," he said with a smile, and a bit of amazement. He'd been so sure it was going to be a boy. At least he didn't seem upset over the outcome, seeming to be pretty happy about it. The party continued for a couple more hours, eating some cake, laughing, having fun. By the end of it though, you were exhausted.

You were so glad you wore tennis shoes, sitting down on the couch and kicking them off. It took a little bit of maneuvering to get your shoes off, sighing when you did.

"A girl," Jay said as he sat beside you, hand on your stomach, kissing next to his hand softly. At this point, you were glad it was just you and him, not feeling like you were being paraded around. Your fingers combed through his hair with a smile, the baby kicking softly. "We didn't even talk about girl names."

"We didn't, but you were so sure it was a boy," you reminded him. That got Jay to chuckle, sending vibrations through your stomach. "Do you have any ideas?"

"No, but I'm sure we'll figure it out," he assured you before he pulled back from your stomach to kiss you. His stubble scratched against your skin softly, your hand cupping his cheek as you felt the roughness against your palm.

"Do you think you could rub my feet?" you softly asked, chewing on your bottom softly. "It was a long day." That got him to laugh again. You didn't think you would ever grow tired of his laugh.

"Of course, babe." That made you happy, Jay helping you get your feet up onto his lap before he started working on your feet. Leaning back against the couch, you already began relaxing, one hand resting on your own stomach with a smile and eyes closed.

The closer you were to the end of your pregnancy, the more nervous you got. Yet, it was so exciting. You could already see Jay holding a small bundle with a tired smile on his face. And you could not wait.

Voight made you go on maternity leave at eight months, just like he'd told you nearly six months ago. That didn't stop you from showing up at the district with lunch for Jay towards the end of the pregnancy. He'd texted you telling you it had been a rough day, so you'd thought it would be a nice surprise. It was difficult getting up the stairs, Trudy coming up to your side to make sure you made it.

"Thank you, Sarge," you told her with a smile once the two of you reached the bullpen.

"You're looking like you're ready to pop, Y/N." You just laughed and smiled, walking over to Jay's desk.

"From the hot dog stand down the street," you told Jay as you sat down with a groan, sighing once you were down. Jay smiled, pulling out the hot dog.

"Y/N," Voight said with a smile. "Maternity leave treating you good?"

"I feel like a whale right now, Sargeant. And feeling like I'd climb the walls if I wasn't so big," you answered, hands resting on your stomach again. "Plus, I missed this place a little too much to stay away."

"That's what maternity is for," he reminded you as Jay ate. "But, I do expect you to bring that baby by occasionally. Have you guys come up with a name?" Kim seemed interested in this conversation, you noticed as she stopped working.

"You'll find out when the baby comes." You and Jay had thought of several names, knowing you'd decide on one when you saw her. "I should probably get home, needing to get a few more things ready for her."

"I'll walk you out to the car," Jay told you with his mouth full. You couldn't help but smile, wiping the bit of mustard off his bottom lip. "Thank you, babe."

"Any time," you assured him, letting him help you stand up. Your hips were killing you, groaning as you stood. "I will say, I am ready for this pregnancy to be over with, Jay. Your daughter has been playing soccer with my bladder all day." At first you didn't notice the wetness, until Jay looked at you confused.

"I noticed." When you looked down, you knew it wasn't your bladder.

"Jay, my water broke." He was about to take the last bite of his hot dog when you said that, cramming it in his mouth.

"Sarge, I gotta go," he told Hank, getting a nod. Jay grabbed his jacket, walking you downstairs slowly. You were not looking forward to the contractions starting. Honestly, the only thing you were looking forward to was holding your daughter in your arms.

You felt tears pricking your eyes as the next contraction hit. They were getting sooner and more painful. Jay was sitting beside you, pushing your hair out of your face, helping you breathe through it.

"This is your fault," you gritted through your teeth, squeezing his hand harder. "You are never touching me again."

"Baby, it will all be worth it when our daughter is here," he assured you, your head falling back on the pillow with a sigh. You felt a cool cloth against your face, looking over at Jay. He had a small smile at the corners of his lips, and you knew he was excited. It was just painful in the process. "Do you want some more ice chips?"

"Yes, please," you answered, repositioning in the bed. You'd opted out of the epidural, wanting to have a natural birth. A part of you was regretting your decision, three hours of labor so far with minimal dilation progress. The last time they'd checked, you were only three centimeters dilated, another seven to go.

You wondered if getting up and walking would help a little bit, but you waited until Jay was back. It didn't take him long, handing you the cup so you could pop a few ice chips in your mouth. It was cool, feeling a little bit better. You were hungry though, that was for sure.

"Help me up," you requested. Jay seemed more than happy to oblige, helping you stand up before looping his arm around your back. You leaned into him, holding his free hand as the two of you walked around the room.

"You're doing great so far," he whispered to you before pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'm right here." You knew he wasn't going anywhere, and you didn't think it was possible to love him anymore.

It took another sixteen hours before a cooing bundle of baby was in your arms. You were sweaty and tired and hungry, but all of that flew out the window as soon as you saw big blue eyes staring up at you. She looked just like Jay.

"She's beautiful," he told you, pushing your hair back again before kissing you with a smile. "Thank you. She is the best thing you could have ever given me."

You couldn't tear your eyes off your daughter, your finger brushing over her cheek softly. You'd been holding her for seemingly forever when Jay finally took her from you. Honestly, you just needed to sleep, and he seemed to recognize that. Getting situated in bed, you looked at the two of them, Jay walking around the room with Melody Grace situated in his arms. You could tell already that Jay was going to be a great father. And you wouldn't have it any other way.


End file.
